The Fall - A Fresh Take on the Clone Wars
by Khyron42
Summary: An attempt to completely re-imagine the history of the Jedi and Republic, and of the entire Star Wars Universe. It is designed to offer a different interpretation based solely on the content of the Original Trilogy. It imagines a more diverse Jedi order than Lucas's stifled monastic cult, and examines the idea that Yoda's view of the Force was merely one among many.
1. Chapter 1: The Trickster and the Knight

Chapter One

His fingers gripped the hilt, sweating slightly. They felt each groove in the metal as if it were a canyon, each smooth and cold against his fingertips. They came to rest on the small rounded button; years of training and discipline kept them from pressing harder, lest the weapon ignite.

He drew a deep breath and felt his hand and how it connected to his arm, and how his mind extended to control them both. He _pushed_, feeling his awareness flood outward, encompassing the tiny room and its contents – mostly cleaning supplies, and of course his fellow Knight.

He felt his awareness flow through the gap beneath the door and into the hallway, brightly lit and bustling with movement; and he felt his companion's efforts clouding his vision, muddying the air in a way that none outside could feel or see or touch, but which dulled their senses, stifled their curiosity.

Anakin's eyes shot open, and his companion grinned. "Did you think they weren't looking in here by accident?" he asked, leaning casually on the opposite wall, barely lowering his voice.

Anakin glared at him. "You're awfully cavalier about meddling in people's thoughts," he said.

His companion flicked his hand dismissively. "It only works on the weak-minded," he said.

Anakin's frown deepened. "That seems like a dour way of looking at people," he said, "I'm fairly certain Soris would have something to say about that attitude."

The other Knight rolled his eyes. "Soris has something to say about _everything._ He should be called Soris the Long-Winded."

It was Anakin's first mission as a Knight, and he had tried and failed to get the measure of his partner on this mission. Rumor held that the man had been trained as a Sage and a Scout before becoming a Knight, one of very few who did so. He had a reputation for deception and pragmatism, known for playing rather unpleasant pranks on his fellow Jedi. He was an Infiltrator, an elite cadre composed traditionally of Scouts and, more recently, Scholars. As far as Anakin knew, his partner was the only Knight to ever join the group. Indeed, there were few stranger or more mysterious Knights than this man from a desert backwater, whose name had been Obi-Wan and who at his Naming had called himself "Kenobi", after the ancient word for "trickster".

Anakin had joined only seven years ago, a fifteen-year-old boy who had made his way to Coruscant in the hope of joining the famed order known as the Jedi, a word that had once meant "Seeker", and which now stood for justice, and law, and bravery and honor – and for the Republic which they had served for a thousand generations, since it had been only one world, and one people. Warriors, Scholars, Sages, and Knights, the Jedi were united by their ability to call upon something they called the Force, an all-encompassing energy that only a rare few could sense and manipulate.

He had been considered for the Scouts because his piloting skills were exceptional, but his boldness and forthrightness made him ill-suited to covert work, and with war looming on the horizon, a life of pure exploration was unlikely for any Scout with talent for combat. So he had been granted his first choice: Jedi Knight, protector of peace and justice, defender of the Republic.

He had not anticipated that his first mission, after seven years of intensive training and practice and simulation, would involve quite so much hiding in closets_._

His hand came to rest on the hilt of his saber again. Obi-Wan must have noticed, because he laughed quietly. "Careful there, you'll cut a hole in your damn leg if you play with that thing too much. Despite what Master Damun might have told you, not _every_ problem can be solved by swinging that thing around."

Anakin shifted his weight, trying to keep his blood flowing freely after standing still for so long. "I don't see why we don't just walk up to his office and arrest him. He's broken the law, and he'll face justice. No-one will stand in our way; we're Jedi. The Republic-"

"Isn't here," Obi-Wan interrupted. "This is the Tion Hegemony. If we storm in and drag him back to Coruscant, they'll have to face some fairly legitimate questions about their sovereignty. It would put strain on their relationship with the Republic, and what does that benefit anyone? They're happy being the Republic's puppet as long as they get to wave their guns around and proclaim their independence every so often. Why interfere with a good thing?"

Anakin drummed his fingers against his leg. "I _hate_ these kind of politics," he said.

Obi-Wan's grin returned, harsher this time. "Well they're my specialty," he said. "That's why _I _was assigned to this mission. I got stuck dragging you along because I needed a pilot and Damun insisted I take his new star along so you could get your damn Naming over with. If it were up to me, you'd be sitting on our ship waiting for me to come back."

Anakin pulled his saber hilt from its loop on his belt and tossed it in the air, flipping it end-over-end. "Well if it were up to me, we'd carve a hole in this damn door and give this planet something to complain about. So I guess nobody gets what they want today. How much longer?" he asked.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "About twenty more minutes, and they'll start locking the doors," he said. "While they're checking the locks and securing the perimeter, we can move to the former Senator's office undetected."

"What about cameras?" Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan tilted his head slightly, and then opened his eyes. "The guard watching the cameras just turned them off. He doesn't realize it now, and won't until he comes back from checking the doors."

Anakin was still uneasy about his partner's casual manipulation of the minds of others, but he remained silent on the topic. "So half an hour. I can wait that long. Let's just make it quick; I presume you brought a stunner?"

Obi-Wan snorted derisively. "Crude devices. No need. He'll walk out with us willingly, just you wait and see."

The half-hour crawled by, but eventually Obi-Wan straightened and nodded at Anakin, and it was time.

Obi-Wan led the way, opening the door. Anakin held his weapon's hilt at the ready, watching behind for any sign of the guards. But Obi-Wan had been correct, and they moved swiftly through the halls to the private offices recently purchased by Jennar Suun, disgraced Senator, branded a traitor for selling military technology to the Unity Coalition, the only other power in the galaxy with as much territory and strength as the Republic.

Obi-Wan opened the doors without a sound, but the former Senator saw them immediately. Before he could call out, Obi-Wan made a small gesture, and the man clutched his throat, gasping for air. "Now hear me, Jennar Suun," Obi-Wan said, circling around behind the man as he clawed at his collar, "We're taking you back where you belong. And unless you want to be sliced into pieces right now, you'll tell your guards to stand down and we'll-"

Anakin held up his hand and Obi-Wan stopped. "Something wrong?" he asked. Anakin nodded.

"There are more people here than just the guards," he said. "Someone's coming this way."

Obi-Wan released Suun, who collapsed on the floor, coughing. "Someone might be coming to see him," Obi-Wan ventured, looking around the room. "We'll take him out the window and get back to the ship."

Anakin looked at the window, dubious. "I'm not sure we can get him out there safely-"

"No," Obi-Wan snapped, "But he'll live."

Anakin was about to argue the point, but then it was too late. The doors exploded inward, and ten black-armored Unity Coalition soldiers stormed in, aiming their blasters at Anakin and Obi-Wan. Behind them, a brown-clad officer strode casually, appearing unconcerned. He smirked at Anakin as he entered the room.

"I must admit," the officer said, his accent betraying him as foreign to both the Republic and the Tion Hegemony, "We had expected you to come for him sooner. He was _such _an easy target-"

Anakin had had enough. In a single fluid motion, he drew his hilt and pressed the small round button. Blue light sprang from the small metal cylinder, a blade of pure energy. The hum of the sword cut through the air, silencing the officer and giving even the armed guards pause – a lightsaber, the symbol of the Republic, the oldest and strongest, the most respected and feared power the galaxy had ever known; and the weapon of its protectors, the legendary Jedi Knights, the cutting blade of the Republic's might. Obi-Wan, sensing Anakin's intent through the Force, did the same almost simultaneously, his own vibrant red blade crackling as it appeared.

The moment of shock was all Anakin needed. He pulled the officer in close, using him as a shield. The soldiers hesitated, unsure if they should fire on their commander.

Obi-Wan had no such dilemma. Guiding his own blade with the force, he hurled it across the room, scything through the guards in an instant. As their bodies dropped, Anakin kicked the officer's legs out from under him and deftly sliced the man's holstered blaster in two, leaving a small burn on his leg. He kicked the man in the face, spraying blood on the floor, and stomped his booted heel on his ankle, feeling the tendon give way. Trying to ignore the smell of the guards' burning flesh, he slung the cowering Suun over his shoulder and pointed his blade toward the door. "I'll carry him, we need to get to the ship," he shouted, trying to maintain his focus, extending his mind into the floor and up to the ceiling, allowing the Force to bear some of the burden he had hoisted upon his shoulders.

Obi-Wan's blade was back in his hand, and the older Jedi ran ahead, spinning his blade to deflect the blaster fire from the building's guards; the guards, seeing their volley have no effect, dropped their weapons in surrender, and Obi-Wan and Anakin ignored them as they ran toward the exit.

"What are Coalition soldiers doing here?" Anakin asked as they ran. "The Hegemony has cut all ties with them."

Obi-Wan had sheathed his saber, and the next guard to try to stop them received the Jedi's fist in his face, Obi-Wan using the Force to add power to the blow and protect his own fist, tossing the guard backward as he fell. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "Presumably their mission was to protect their friend Suun. Maybe the Hegemony doesn't know they're here?"

The doors were locked, but Obi-Wan's saber flashed again and they swung open – the ship was hidden in the woods less than a mile away. Anakin forced a grin, and said through his gritted teeth, "Despite what Master Yoda might have taught you, swinging that thing around can solve a _surprising number_ of problems."

Obi-Wan laughed as they ran into the woods, extinguishing his saber to hide their whereabouts. Alarms blared from the building behind them, and from the city nearby. "Well I hope Master Klyver wasn't exaggerating about your skills as a pilot," he said as they jogged through the forest.

Anakin finally set their captive down. Obi-Wan rounded on the portly man, stopping inches from his face. "And _you_," he said, angrily, but Anakin stood and held out his hand. Obi-Wan stopped, regaining his composure. "_You_," he said again, "Will use that comlink you have hidden in your pocket to call the local police, and tell them you're headed _into_ the city, with two Jedi in pursuit." The politician's hand quivered as he reached for the comlink, but he did as he had been told. The rest of the journey to the ship was slow, quiet, and cautious; but soon they had reached their means of escape.

Tossing the former Senator into the small cargo hold, Anakin climbed into the pilot's seat of the thin, Y-shaped vessel. He shook his head as he pulled on his flight helmet. "I said we were going to want a faster ship to get out of here," he said.

Obi-Wan strapped himself into the gunner's seat. "It was a good disguise," he replied, "They'll never think we're worth checking on. An old Y-Wing cargo hauler? Not a chance. They'd be _expecting_ something fast."

Suddenly the ship was blasted by a blinding spotlight; overhead, a police hovercraft circled, its loudspeaker blaring unintelligible ultimatums at them as their engines warmed up.

Obi-Wan pulled the cockpit closed. "Although," he admitted, "It's possible that you might have been right in this _particular _instance..."

Anakin smiled grimly as he pulled the throttle back, his landing gear snapping off as they dragged on the ground, trees splintering against the cockpit and the ship's chassis. Looking back, Anakin saw Obi-Wan's knuckles whiten as he clutched the sides of the cockpit. Laughing, Anakin faced forward and pulled up, rolling to dislodge any debris from the forest. "I need you to man the rear gun," he told Obi-Wan, and he saw the gunner's station turn green on his display.

His sensors had booted up, and he could watch the colored markers of the pursuing ships. He felt the low _thud_ of the rear turbolaser turret firing, watched one of the enemy vessels' markers vanish. "Good shooting, old man," he said over his shoulder.

Obi-Wan didn't respond except to take aim and destroy another Hegemony police ship.

Anakin focused on the space ahead of them – a dozen warships were closing in on their exit vector, and Anakin again cursed the heavy, sluggish Y-Wing. Suddenly something disturbed him – he could _feel_ the minds aboard the incoming ships, and they seemed strange; not the confusion of local authorities responding to a sudden explosion of activity, but the purposeful, driven minds of a military pursuing an objective. He risked an active scan, and it confirmed his suspicions. "Damn," he muttered, then turned again to Obi-Wan. "Those aren't Hegemony ships, those are Unity warships," he said.

Obi-Wan swore under his breath. "Can you get us out of here? Because we'll have a better chance returning to the planet and surrendering directly to the Hegemony if you can't. We might be able to negotiate some kind of-"

"I can make it!" Anakin snapped. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head, "Don't worry about it old man. We'll be out of here in no time."

Obi-Wan fired a few times at their pursuers, to no effect. "Forgive me for thinking we aren't going to just _breeze past _a Coalition fleet. I'll give you this, you were damn right about this ship. We'd be better off if we _walked_ past these bastards."

Anakin's console blared a missile lock alarm, a red light and a piercing sound. He reached out with his mind and _felt_ the position of each missile, their cold mechanical nature against the lifeless void of space, each a chunk of metal and explosive carrying the shadows of a dozen people – the toil of the laborers who created them, the intent of the pilots who fired them, and the faintest hint of those who had handled and loaded them. Through the Force, Anakin could feel their position and trajectory with greater precision than any computer. He rolled and spun, looping around back toward the planet.

"Wrong way!" Obi-Wan shouted, firing wildly at nothing in his frustration.

Anakin smirked to himself and felt ahead with the Force. He flew straight through the enemy formation, the wingtips of his Y-Wing nearly touching the pursuing ships. The missiles that were following shut down as their friend-or-foe systems detected their proximity to the very ships which fired them, but enough still impacted; even disarmed, their momentum tore through the Hegemony ships. Flipping end-over-end, Anakin resumed his burn toward the edge of the planet's gravity well, where the hyperdrive could safely engage, leaving the expanding debris cloud of his former pursuers behind him.

The Coalition warships had arrayed themselves in a standard interdiction pattern – Anakin's ship was too slow to maneuver around the small flotilla. Anakin surveyed his options, extending his awareness through the Force.

Obi-Wan had turned around in his seat to peer out the cockpit toward the distant blockade. Anakin could sense his feelings of helplessness. He began blocking out the presence of the older Jedi, but then slowed the ship, thoughtful.

Obi-Wan's alarm was palpable. "Why are we slowing down?" he demanded. "If we're going to accelerate past them, we'll need to stay at full speed."

Anakin shook his head. "We _can't_ accelerate past them," he said, "There's no time. We're trying to solve this problem separately, when instead we should be working together. I can't fly us past this, and you can't trick us past it, but maybe we can do both?"

Obi-Wan seemed to consider this for a moment. "Alright, " he said, "You're probably right. Let me think..." He paused, and Anakin slowed the ship further. "Well," Obi-Wan ventured after a moment, "We're far enough from the planet that the Hegemony's next wave of ships will take a while to reach us. That blockade is waiting for us to come into range. What if we don't?"

"They'll get impatient and launch fighters," Anakin said. "Does that help us? They'll overwhelm me with numbers eventually. I'm good, but I'm not that good."

Obi-Wan tapped his fingers on the cockpit. "But they _won't _send large numbers," he said, frowning in thought. "Any alliance or agreement they have with the Hegemony is _very new,_ and there's a long history of distrust there. If the Coalition wants to maintain it, they can't look like they're attacking – the orbital patrol will be on a hair-trigger, waiting for betrayal."

Anakin shrugged. "But even then, it doesn't let us get out of here. I can blow up a squadron at a time, but I still can't move fast enough to get around those damn ships. It's a pair of frigates and four corvettes, nothing slow enough to maneuver past in this bucket."

Obi-Wan stopped tapping. "But we can go _through _them. Unity ships won't fire on their own fighters, will they?"

Anakin laughed bitterly. "Probably not at first, but if they get too annoyed, they might risk it. Two Jedi are quite the prize."

Obi-Wan's voice grew more excited. "But I can _fool_ them. Not completely, but _probably _enough. I can make them think we _are _one of their fighters, and the confusion might just keep us alive."

"So _probably enough_ is the best we're gonna get out of this, I take it?" he asked, throttling up to full power again, but moving laterally, to force the flotilla to follow.

Obi-Wan tapped his shoulder in excitement and encouragement. "Well, no-one will be around to blame us if we fail," he said, strapping himself back into the gunner's seat.

The first wing of fighters had been deployed and was heading in their direction. "Their lack of patience, will be their downfall," he said, mimicking Master Yoda's cadence and high-pitched, gravelly voice.

Obi-Wan laughed. "And absolute dumb luck will be our salvation," he said.

Anakin grinned and pulled up, heading toward the incoming fighters. He could feel Obi-Wan's trickery clouding their minds – not enough to eliminate the danger, but enough to cause hesitation. As the enemy pilots sighted in on Anakin's ship, they were suddenly _unsure. _They wondered if they had chosen the correct target. When that wasn't enough, Obi-Wan resorted to simpler tricks – bouts of self-doubt, memories of old lovers or past traumas. All these things plagued their enemies' minds as Anakin dragged the aging bomber-turned-cargo-hauler through maneuvers that threatened to tear it to pieces. He fired his forward weapons sparingly; they were never going to win through combat.

The Coalition fighters were brand new, state-of-the-art X-Wings, the latest word in configurable, multi-role one-person spacecraft. But this, too Obi-Wan turned to their advantage – many of the more experienced pilots, those who easily shook off his attempts to instill doubts as to their target, were nevertheless unsure of these new, untested fighters. They hesitated for fractions of seconds as they reached for their targeting controls, wondering if it was the right control, or if they had seen an unfamiliar warning light.

Anakin had put the Y-Wing into a barely-controlled spin, firing occasionally to add to the chaos. A second wing of fighters had joined, further compounding the opportunities for confusion. Carefully maintaining the appearance of a harmless, undirected tumble, he had managed to bring the entire affair onto the doorstep of the nearest warship, one of the limber corvettes which had struck out farthest in order to block his escape.

The fighters had lost only a few, mostly to friendly fire, but their confusion had turned into panic. They were now realizing that they could no longer trust their own senses, and the legendary status of the Jedi was having its desired effect, turning panic into near-terror.

Anakin reached out into the corvette's bridge and tried to find the communications officer. He felt his own ship take a hit, felt Obi-Wan's sudden distraction. But he remained focused, and found the officer in question, a young Duros. With all the subtlety he could muster, Anakin tried to emulate Obi-Wan's technique, and after an excruciating heartbeat, realized that he had succeeded – the comm officer had, without thinking, reached for his mic and unknowingly moved the frequency setting for the ship-to-ship comms.

Returning to the situation at hand, he righted the Y-Wing and headed _toward_ the corvette at full thrust. "What just happened?" Obi-Wan asked. "Things just got _much _easier."

Anakin could sense it, too. The sudden failure of communications with their parent vessel had pushed the squadron leaders to their wits' end. One had the good sense to withdraw, arguing – quite correctly – that the corvette's guns would make short work of the Y-Wing.

But Obi-Wan was there, in the mind of the second squadron leader, a gentle whisper of pride and resentment. This was _his _mission, the commander thought, and no _coward_ was going to convince him to give it up.

The corvette was unable to issue the order to withdraw, but its gunners were waiting for that order before they would fire – again, confusion and chaos were their allies.

But another hit landed on the Y-Wing, and Anakin knew they could only take so much before a lucky shot pierced the cockpit or took out an engine – or worse, destroyed the hyperdrive. "We need to wrap this up, old man," he said, his voice growing frantic.

Obi-Wan had already devised a plan. "Anakin I need you to fly into the Corvette's hangar bay."

Anakin laughed sarcastically. "_Through_ the shielded door?" he asked, but changed course anyway.

Obi-Wan had abandoned the gun to once again peer over Anakin's shoulder. "The shield is down so they can fire their turrets," he said. "The hangar on a Unity corvette usually goes through the whole ship. We can go in one side and then out the other. All I need to do..."

Anakin felt Obi-Wan's concentration drift outward, and realized what his intent was. "You're going to _flip the damn switch_ from out here? It's probably about the size of a damn 10-credit coin!"

But he could feel Obi-Wan's presence, feel that rather than moving as a pinpoint, the Trickster had instead become a cloud, encompassing the entire bay. "If you'd ever studied under Master Yoda, you'd know that size..." Obi-Wan paused as he found the switch and focused his widespread awareness into a single point, pressing against the tiny switch. "...doesn't matter," he finished, snapping his fingers in success as the door began to open.

The technicians in the hangar threw themselves to the deck as the Y-Wing hurtled into the bay, rotated ninety degrees to fit through the narrow door gap. Someone had the presence of mind to close the door almost immediately – preventing the Coalition fighters from following. The door on the opposite side was nearly impregnable – from the outside. A single proton torpedo blew it outward, but instead of flying through, Anakin fired full reverse thrusters, bringing the old bomber nearly to a stop.

Obi-Wan's hands tightened on the back of Anakin's seat. "What are you doing?" he asked, forcing his voice to be steady and casual despite his rising panic.

Anakin grinned. "If we fly out that side, the guns will kill us in a microsecond. Let's give them a little surprise, instead..."

Obi-Wan looked down at the controls and saw what Anakin had done. "Anakin," he said, hurriedly turning back around and strapping himself in, "If we live through this, I'm going to-"

Anakin drowned him out with a loud _whoop_ as he opened the throttle back up, rocketing through the hole and back out into space. The gunners on the other side had been waiting, and were not quite ready the instant their quarry finally came into their crosshairs. Trained professionals, they sighted in quickly, but they were already too late.

The hyperdrive on the Y-Wing had been charging since Anakin had entered the hangar bay. The charging sequence was irreversible; as soon as it had begun, the ship had been locked into its jump cycle, an instantly fatal proposition from within the hangar itself. With perfect timing, Anakin exited just as the jump completed. Wreathed in blue discharge, barely clear of the corvette, the battered Y-Wing vanished in a flash, as the space where it had been filled with futile turbolaser fire.

Anakin and Obi-Wan roared in laughter as they tunneled through the swirling maelstrom of hyperspace, finally safe. Obi-Wan made a token obscene gesture backward toward the now light-years distant corvette, then turned again to Anakin and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Anakin," he said, "I think I've come up with the _perfect _name for you when we get back..."


	2. Notes for Chapter 1

This story is based on the Star Wars Trilogy, with a few concepts such as the planet of Coruscant and a few names such as the Tion Hegemony borrowed from the Legacy Expanded Universe.

The content is designed to be consistent with the actions and statements of characters in the Original Trilogy, but _nothing else_. It makes a few basic assumptions, however, which I believe are fair and beneficial to the telling of the story:

1: Timeline.

The timeline in Lucas's prequels is a mess, but it's one that can be simply and easily solved. There is _no reason_ to presume that the establishment of the Empire and the "death" of Anakin (and thus his transformation into Vader) happened simultaneously - years or even decades may have separated these events. Likewise, the collapse of the Jedi order need not have happened within **hours** of the renaming from Republic to Empire.

This solves many issues, but introduces another, fortunately solved just as easily - character ages now seem too great. But this is based on assumptions created by the prequels; nothing in the OT _ever_ gives _anyone_ a definite age. The only person who _does_ get an age is Yoda, who claims to be _nine hundred years old_. There is no reason to say that this is a result of his species; instead, I would argue that a connection to the Force can slow the aging process considerably, renewing the body with the life-energy of the universe or some such. The only force users we meet are:

Yoda, supposedly almost a _millennia_ old

Palpatine, who _looks_ at least a hundred years old.

Vader, who is preserved by a life-support suit and thus of indeterminate age

Obi-Wan, who one might _assume_ is the age of his actor, but who could also be much older and sustained by his connection to the Force

Thus, by simply making a few inferences based on what we see and matching it to a logical timeline, we have a setting more consistent with the original tone - a Republic that has been transforming into an Empire for around a century, a Vader who has only been truly lost for twenty years but who was perhaps on a dark path before that final point.

2: The Jedi, the Force, and Philosophy

It has always been taken for granted that Obi-Wan and Yoda are the absolute authority on all things Jedi. _Why?_ If Yoda is the last Master, why would we assume that _every other Jedi_ agreed completely with his ideas? Isn't it more likely that other Masters had different ideas, and being people of wisdom, sought their own paths to it? This is also borne out by what we see: Obi-Wan's and Yoda's teachings have _very little_ in common; and Obi-Wan's actions are wildly inconsistent with Yoda's philosophy.

This leads to a vision of the Jedi as a diverse organization, full of differing viewpoints and conflicting ideas. It also opens the door to the idea that Yoda and Obi-Wan's manipulations of Luke may be less morally perfect than the existing EU and prequels assume. What if Yoda is the last Master, and having decided that his way was the only right way, is now presenting it as the _only_ Jedi way? Obi-Wan is even more ambiguous: he essentially deliberately manipulates Luke into going on a quest to kill Vader, even allowing himself to die in order to cement Luke's hatred for _his own father - from_ whom, one might recall, Obi-Wan _stole _Luke at some point.

Now this isn't an attempt to re-cast Yoda and Obi-Wan as villains; but it is an attempt to give them more complex motives and histories than "Good wise Jedi guys fighting evil."

Hopefully, as this story unfolds, you will enjoy a vision of the Jedi influenced more by the diversity seen in _Tales of the Jedi_ than the sterile groupthink of Lucas's bland prequel Jedi. I hope you'll enjoy an Obi-Wan who is more consistent with his OT actions - a trickster, cunning and careful more than the dull, flat, generic Jedi Master who exists merely to advance the plot; I hope you'll find an Anakin who was a decent man, with good intentions, who found himself slowly and subtly descending into a dark path more compelling than a whiny, megalomaniacal teenager.


	3. Chapter 2: The Fist and the Glove

Chapter 2: The Fist and the Glove

Darin Antall looked at the plans on his datapad and frowned. There were too many exits, too many sight-lines. He smoothed his plain grey dress uniform uniform for the tenth time as his assignment approached.

It was, in theory, a prestigious mission: escort Rosh Berana, Republic Senator and Ambassador, to the trade talks with Unity Coalition on Telarus, at some historical temple or whatnot. In practice, it was making Darin's uniform feel ill-fitted, and making him think longingly of his rack back aboard the _Unbound_, which was currently in orbit, but not around Telarus; as a show of good faith, the Republic dreadnaught had parked around the planet's moon, almost four hundred thousand miles away.

Darin shifted his feet, feeling each tiny shard of gravel; the gravity was too high for his taste. It was a disadvantage piled atop a heap of disadvantages that had grown so high, he could barely see a glimmer of hope should things end badly. He smoothed his uniform again as the Senator approached, surrounded by a small entourage of assistants. He pivoted on his heel and called his platoon to attention, only turning to face the Senator's party when he heard the crunch of gravel directly behind him.

The blond-haired Senator gave an easy smile and extended his hand. "Rosh Berana of Milaf City, Alderaan," he said.

Darin extended his hand stiffly, having been prepared to salute. "Sergeant Darin Antall of the 19th Marine Regiment, currently assigned to the 7th Expeditionary Unit," he said. "It's my platoon's duty to escort you while on-planet."

The Senator laughed. "If they'd wanted me dead, why not just shoot down my ship?"

Darin's eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. "It would give away too much too soon, sir. The _Unbound_ would detect it, and it would reveal those anti-air emplacements as targets."

The Senator laughed again and clapped Darin on the shoulder, knocking him slightly out of his position of attention. "Well, I have faith you'll take care of me if they decide to spring their malevolent trap today, Sergeant," he said. "Is there anything I need to do?" he asked, surveying the platoon.

Darin pivoted again and addressed his Marines, their white armor gleaming in the sun, their faces stern beneath their white, open-faced helmets. "First squad, you stay with the Senator at all times. Second and Third squads, I want fireteams fifty yards ahead, to the rear, port and starboard. Fourth squad, double-time to the Convent to assess the situation. The Republic is waiting on the Senator, and the Senator will be waiting on _you_, understood? Make it quick. _Fall out!_"

The Marines hurried about their tasks, checking their weapons as they assumed their positions.

The Senator looked around the landing field, where another ship nearby was throttling up its engines to depart, and a dozen teams of mechanics and maintenance staff went about their duties. "Sergeant," the Senator said, "Your men should try to be polite. We're guests here, after all."

Darin decided to ignore the remark. "Senator, we need to get you inside," he said, signaling the platoon to move.

The Senator followed as they ushered him into the terminal, where the crowds of travelers gave the Marines a wide berth. Darin looked around carefully until he found an unused boarding area where they could wait for Fourth squad's report.

"Senator," he asked as they settled in, ignoring the wary stares of the passersby, "This was the site of the previous trade negotiations, yes? Is there anything about the Convent that I should know?"

The Senator's brow furrowed. "No," he said eventually, "Nothing you'd find particularly interesting. It was a temple where an ancient religious order lived, an all-female enclave devoted to craft and spirituality. Eventually it became a center for trade, and the religion's restriction became more and more relaxed, until eventually-"

"Understood, Senator," Darin said, cutting him short before this became a full-on history lesson, "As you said, nothing of interest."

His comlink buzzed and he tapped his earpiece to accept the incoming coded, but unencrypted message – Darin did not want to give Unity forces a chance to analyze their encryption. The message was good news, however; five long tones and one short, meaning that Fourth squad had arrived at the Convent and found nothing immediately suspicious.

"Senator, are you and your advisers ready to move?" he asked, already signaling his Marines.

The Senator nodded, but placed a hand on Darin's shoulder. "Sergeant," he said, hesitant, "I feel I need to remind you that we aren't in a combat zone. This is the economic center of the Unity Coalition, not a battlefield. Your men should be relaxing and chatting up the locals, not waving their guns around. We're trying to _avoid_ a war, not start one."

Darin looked at the Senator's hand until the man removed it. "Senator Berana, my orders are to ensure your safety, and they come from the Imperator himself. But he has made clear that my _mission_ also includes a responsibility to represent the Republic alongside you. If you would observe more closely, you will see that my Marines are not "waving" anything. They will keep their rifles trained safely on the ground until something such time as they are ordered to engage or are themselves engaged. The Unity Coalition will be reminded of our strength and our discipline, Senator. Now let us proceed and get these negotiations underway."

As the Senator gathered his entourage, Darin reflected on the teeming masses in the starport terminal. The Senator rejoined him. "See anything, Sergeant?" he asked.

"No military or police presence anywhere to be seen," Darin noted.

The Senator nodded. "Unity civilians are infamous for their dislike of armed guards," he said. It made Darin's skin itch, but he kept this to himself as the Senator went on.

"The Unity Coalition sees us as a monster, do you know that? They think we have our sights on their independence."

Darin scoffed. "As if we'd attack them unprovoked," he said. "The Republic has never begun a war of aggression in all its history."

Yes, well," the Senator said, "The Coalition have apparently found a few of our wars of self-defense to be less-than-justified. And when we liberated the Axol cluster from the Tion Hegemony, they still call that the 'Axol Invasion'."

Darin walked with the Senator as the entire party – Ambassador, advisers, and Marines – moved through the terminal, clearing a wide path through the civilian traffic.

"I can't believe no-one's been sent to meet us," Darin commented. "Feels like an insult. Or worse."

"It _is_ rather odd," the Senator agreed, "But it's more likely they simply didn't want to present a military force as our first welcome."

Darin eyed the Senator. "Are you implying that my Marines send the wrong message?"

The Senator gave Darin an incredulous look. "Sergeant, I believe I've been trying to say _exactly that_ since we landed. Your people are terrifyingly effective, I'm sure, but they're only adding to the problem. The Coalition sees us as overly military, expansionist. The people here have been raised to view us as imperialistic opportunists just waiting to drive them from their homes. And now with the Axol cluster officially joining the Republic, we share a border with the Coalition for the first time in history. That's why these talks are so important: if we can finally establish a solid _economic_ bond between our peoples, the rest should follow."

Darin wasn't so sure. He had seen the Coalition weapons in the hands of Axol insurgents, seen their ships' weapons trained at the _Unbound_. "Senator, if they want war, they'll get it. Let's just pray that it doesn't start with your head."

They reached the starport exit and stepped outside, the Convent towering ahead – a conical stone structure, its walls were covered glimmering gemstones arranged in intricate spiral patterns, a vast fractal curve. Fourth squad met them as they approached, and Darin broke away to receive their report, taking a knee to confer with the squad leader.

"Sergeant," the squad leader said, his voice low, "The place is empty except for a small staff who seem to be setting up for the talks. The Unity diplomats are waiting on the other side of the building, and I'm betting they'll enter as soon as we do. They've got a few armed guards, civilian police it looks like. But Bron hacked their comms, and found out they're in contact with a larger force nearby, sounds like a military base."

Darin looked at Bron and nodded in approval. "Trooper Bron, excellent work." He turned back to the Corporal. "Josen was right, then; he thought he saw a base nearby when we were de-orbiting. I take it there was nothing to indicate a trap?"

The Corporal, Hinji, shook his head. "It was standard stuff; they're keeping an eye on the _Unbound_, and they've got cameras in the terminal that were watching us. They're nervous, but it's hard to say if that's because they've got something planned or if they just don't like us."

Darin tugged at his sleeve. "I wish I was wearing my armor either way. I hate this damn thing," he said, and Hinji grinned in agreement.

"Well Sergeant," Hinji joked, "At least you know Jens won't hide behind _you_ if they start shooting."

Corporal Jens was a few feet away, still guarding the Senator, but he had heard, and made an obscene gesture at Hinji. "It's called _cover_ jackass," he hissed, trying to whisper long-distance "I was-"

Darin straightened up. "_Lock it up_," he said, forcefully, and his Marines obeyed, resuming their bearing. Hinji and his squad stood as well, and Darin gave them new orders. "You're watching the exit," he said. "Split into fireteams. You stay here where we came in, second fireteam goes all the way around and secures the other side. Don't talk to anybody, don't say anything. Just take up a post at the door. If they ask you anything, ignore them. They need to know who's in control of this situation and that we're not afraid of them."

"Aye, sergeant," Hinji affirmed, and began relaying the orders to his squad. Darin returned to the Senator, who was tapping his foot impatiently.

"Sergeant, these talks are scheduled to begin _now_," he said.

Darin beckoned Second and Third squads to form up. "Just a moment, Senator," he said, then addressed his Marines. "Fourth squad is on lookout out here; First squad, you're coming inside with me. Third, I need you to secure this entrance to the starport in case we have to retreat. Fourth, you're heading back to the ships. Keep and eye on the Senator's shuttle, but if we need to get out of here in a hurry, we'll just take the dropship and blast the shuttle on the way out."

The Senator's eyes widened at this, and after Darin gave the command to fall out, he patted the Senator's arm. "Just a precaution," he said; reassuringly, he hoped. "We've got ears on a base nearby, so we should have some advance warning if they start to move."

The Senator gave him another look, but gathered his advisers and headed toward the Convent. A group of Unity dignitaries had finally come out to meet them, and Darin stifled a yawn as the diplomats droned pleasantries for a few minutes.

Suddenly, Darin realized the people nearby were no longer staring at his team, but instead looking up at the sky. Darin followed their gaze and almost jumped in shock.

Overhead, the _Unbound_ was clearly visible – lower than low orbit, it was _in the atmosphere_. Suddenly one of the Unity diplomats tapped a comlink and listened intently, casting suspicious glances at the Senator as he did so.

Darin's own comlink buzzed – a call from the _Unbound_. _"Status, over?"_

"Status is green," Darin replied, "What's the situation up there, over?"

"_Energy build-up near your location, dropping in to discourage attack. Stay cautious, Actual out."_

Darin blinked in confusion, but before he could process, the Unity diplomat was yelling something and he turned to listen.

"Why has your warship left the moon's orbit?" he demanded, but the Senator could only offer him a placating non-answer.

Deciding to take a step in the direction of cooperation, Darin spoke up. "Sir, the _Unbound _detected an energy build-up and got closer to investigate."

The diplomat waved a hand dismissively. "The only energy build-up was our guns when we saw a Republic dreadnaught entering our atmosphere at full speed." He rounded on Senator Berana, "You will explain yourselves! You bring a contingent of your stormtroopers to our doorstep and now you bring a dreadnought down on our heads. Can your Republic do _nothing_ without turning it into an invasion?"

Berana held his hands out again. "Please, this is obviously a misunderstanding-"

Darin's commling buzzed again. It was Hinji, on voice comms – which he had been specifically ordered to avoid using. _"Sergeant," _his voice said through the tiny earpiece, _"My second fireteam has been engaged. The coalition tried to stop them from guarding the exit, it went hand-to-hand. They need orders!"_

Darin interrupted the diplomats' argument. He grabbed the Unity delegate. "You will order your people on the other side of this building to _disengage_ with my Marines, sir!" he shouted as the diplomat squirmed.

Suddenly it was too late; the _pang_ of blaster fire was audible even from the other side of the towering Convent. The Senator tried to grab Darin from behind, and the Unity diplomats turned to run. Hinji was shouting something in his ear, but Darin could make nothing out through static – Unity jamming, he realized.

Faced with imminent attack, Darin gave the only order he could think of, the order he had feared he would need to give since the moment he set foot on this planet.

He keyed his comlink, signaling all squads. "Open fire!" he ordered, "And fall back to the dropship!"

The Senator, crestfallen, released Darin's arm. "This is madness," he muttered, but he turned and ran back toward the starport.

"Second and Third, stay with the Senator!" Darin barked. "First squad! You're with me. We're going back for Fourth."

The Senator glared as he ran, but Darin ignored him, grabbing Jens and taking his sidearm. Jens had his rifle aimed toward the Convent, and together, Darin, Jens, and the rest of First squad broke into a run back toward the huge structure.

Darin could see the flash of blaster fire from inside; Hinji had likely tried to cut through the building to reach his second fireteam.

First squad stacked up on the doorway and entered according to protocol, forgoing their usual grenade in light of their comrades' proximity.

The inside of the Convent was a mess. It had been set up as a large amphitheater, but the stage was empty and unlit. Instead, the only illumination came from the blasters of Hinji and the Unity police on the other side of the hall; Hinji had flipped several benches to serve as cover, flipping more as he advanced. Darin and his squad came in firing, catching the Unity troops off-guard. They felled two of them, and as the others retreated Darin's squad joined Hinji's fireteam.

Hinji coughed; the smoke in the amphitheater was thick. "Report!" Darin ordered, noting the burn on Hinji's arm.

Hinji cleared his throat and spat, loudly. "Damn Unity bastards hit us while we were on our way through the building to second fireteam. Bron and Serren and Jol and Bula are over there, we heard shots but then they stopped."

Darin dragged Hinji to his feet. "Come on," he shouted "We're going to get them, _right now_. Our boat is _leaving_ Marines!"

The squads hopped the benches, rifles at the ready. Hinji kept trying to signal his second fireteam, but the jamming was at full power, and nothing but static filled the airwaves. The door to the outside had been locked, preventing the second fireteam from entering; a few seconds of blaster fire unlocked it.

Outside again, things looked even worse for Bron than they had for Hinji; Bula lay dead on the ground at the door, and Bron, Serren, and Jol were on one knee with no cover, firing at a dozen black-armored Unity troopers across the plaza. Bron's right arm was burned off at the elbow, the barrel of his rifle resting across the stump as he tried to aim with his left hand.

Darin grabbed the back of his armor and dragged him inside. "Bron, status!" he shouted, holding his fellow Marine upright.

Bron's head wavered, but he answered. "Too many of them. Lost Bula..." he said, but trailed off.

Darin braced himself, then swung the injured man over his shoulders, grunting from the strain. He pulled Hinji back inside as well while the others added to the covering fire.

He told Hinji the plan. "We're getting _off_ of this planet! We move around the _outside _of this rathole and get back to the dropship. Grab Bula, and let's go."

Hinji nodded silently – the Republic did not leave its troopers to the enemy, not if they could help it.

Outside again, Jens took Bron from Darin with ease – Jens had been raised a farmer on Selaron, a world with almost twice the gravity of even this heavy, oversized Unity planet. Darin slapped his arm in thanks as they fired wildly at the Unity forces, which seemed to grow more numerous by the second.

They hugged the wall of the Convent, blaster fire searing the air around them as the Unity troops tried to pin them down. Bron was still trying to fire from across Jens's shoulders; First squad had lost Yondin and Carel, whose bodies were now carried by Solin and Anton.

Finally they rounded the building and Darin's plan paid off – they had left the shadow of the Convent, and now the sun was directly in front of them, blinding their pursuers.

They staggered across the parking lot toward the starport entrance; Darin could smell the burnt flesh of his Marines, and wondered if some of it was his own. Their armor was covered in blast marks, but their injuries were mostly at the joints; Darin's dress uniform provided no such protection. He looked down and saw a few burned patches of uniform, but nothing deepr, and breathed a sigh of relief – only to look back up and felt that relief turn to ashes.

A dozen Unity troopers descended from the hovering attack craft that had swooped overhead; his Marines dropped half of them before they landed, but the rest advanced, wearing heavy powered armor.

Darin looked around wildly – no cover, no relief. He steeled himself and aimed his handgun at the attack craft overhead, looking for a shot at the pilot. If he was going to die, he wanted to at least go out with a bang.

But before he could fire fruitlessly at the hovering black ship, a high-pitched whine grew to a deafening roar behind him. Spinning to look, he barely saw a silhouette of his dropship as it careened overhead, smashing through the small Unity craft in a fiery collision that fizzled harmlessly outside the Republic ship's superior shields.

The dropship descended to mere inches from the ground, and Darin's Marines tossed their wounded and dead aboard before boarding themselves.

Once he was sure his Marines were safe, Darin himself climbed aboard, taking the hand offered – and looked up to find the Senator pulling him up.

Without a word, the two looked out from the open doors of the dropship as the planet's surface receded. Suddenly the Convent vanished in a flash of green light, leaving only a towering pillar of smoke rising from the ground where it had stood.

The _Unbound's_ bombardment continued as they ascended, and didn't stop until they were safely aboard.


	4. Notes for Chapter 2

I've decided to put one of these with each chapter, in order to share some of the thought process behind this story. As I've been writing this, I've been continually suprised by how many things we simply take for granted about Star Wars but which are purely creations of the Expanded Universe, or even the prequel films, and I'm eager to mention them when they come up, if only because I know my fellow fans might balk at some of them.

But for example, as far as I can tell, no-one affiliated with the Empire EVER refers to "stormtroopers" as such in the entire trilogy. Obi-Wan calls them that, and Leia says Luke's too short to be one, and Threepio says it exactly ONCE, and that's it. As such, there's no reason to think that's their official name! It could just as easily be merely an informal or even derogatory term. I decided that it was a common nickname for the troops of the Republic and later Imperial military, much as "devildog" or "leatherneck" or "jarhead" is used for Marines, but much more well-known. Allies use it encouragingly, enemies use it contemptuously, and the troopers themselves use a more formal name; in my story, as a Marine, it was easiest for me to structure them like the USMC, and I think it works well at grounding them and making them feel like a real military.

For the second chapter, I had originally planned to follow the Jedi as they returned to Coruscant, in order to introduce my new take on the Jedi order. But while writing, it became apparent that I was suffering the same problem as the prequel films - everyone involved should already KNOW all the relevant details about the Jedi, so there was no reason for them to discuss it. EVen if we delved into Anakin's younger days in training, the political realities of an organization aren't something which is EXPLAINED to you, but which you come to learn slowly over many years among them.

An outsider, on the other hand, would know nothing of the Jedi except their reputation, and might be surprised by the reality; and a Jedi explaining their order to an outsider would do so more efficiently, in the kind of generalizations which are needed to avoid turning this thing into a damn political essay!

So as I considered this problem, something popped into my head: if this story is the fall of the Jedi, then isn't it also the story of the RISE of the military? So I decided I should have someone who's a part of the military as a character, not only to give more insight into the Jedi for the audience, but also to demonstrate the mindset that could lead to a Republic's shift into an Empire; not an everyman, per se, but another side in the equation. To my mind, even though I have expanded the timeline of (and changed the fundamental nature of, but we'll get to that later!) the Clone Wars considerably, it's still silly to believe that a Republic would become and Empire overnight. The Roman Republic had grown into a mlitary superpower some time before its military commander seized control; I imagine the Republic as having been becoming more militaristic for quite some time before the Clone Wars pushed them over the edge.

So instead of just conjuring someone to be exposited at, I decided that I would introduce Darin Antall in his element - on the ground, serving the Republic Military. As I hinted at above, it was fun to write from my time in the Marine Corps but in a Star Wars setting, and I hope I can bring an authenticity to him which will let you understand his way of thinking.


	5. Chapter 3: Seekers

Chapter 3: Seekers

Anakin and Obi-Wan landed the Y-Wing on Coruscant, at the Jedi Academy's starport. Anakin hopped from the cockpit and stretched his legs, hopping a bit to try to relieve the stiffness in his joints. He smelled the air, filled with strange industrial chemicals and bizarre foods from across the Republic.

He remembered his first arrival at the Academy, years ago. Coruscant! Capital of the Republic, and home of the famed Jedi Order. It was a planet covered entirely by city – indeed, rumor held that the city extended for _miles_ below the surface, each layer older and more dangerous and decayed than those above. Anakin had seen it for the first time and been terrified, afraid of where he would go if he could not become a Jedi, if his ability in combat had been merely luck and not an affinity for the Force as the visiting Jedi had suggested.

But he had been accepted as an Apprentice, and chosen as a Knight. And soon, he realized, he would take his new name, as Jedi had done for a thousand generations before.

Obi-Wan must have felt his trepidation, and set a hand gently on his shoulder. "Let's get to the Keep. We've got important news, remember?"

Anakin nodded, then laughed. "We've got something else as well, remember?" he said, and gestured to their scorched and battered ship, where a faint hammering could be heard.

Obi-Wan grinned and waved over a nearby trooper. His armor was shiny white, and he saluted, his bare hand touching the brim of his open-faced helmet. "Yes, sir?" he said; Jedi were well-respected among the rank-and-file of the Republic's armed forces, and the Order would likely assume a more formal position if war broke out, as it had done in so many past conflicts.

"We have a prisoner in the cargo hold of our ship," Obi-Wan told the trooper, "See that he's taken to the Hall of Judgment, would you?"

The trooper gave a curt nod and hurried to gather a prisoner escort. Anakin glanced back, but followed Obi-Wan as he headed toward the Keep, Enclave of the Order of Knights. Beside it stood the Watchtower, home of the Order of Scouts; behind them were the Library and the Temple, home to the Scholars and Sages respectively.

The Academy was one of the great wonders of the Republic, of the Galaxy as a whole. Ancient technology had harnessed the power of the living Force in order to suspend the vast complex ten thousand feet above the planet's surface current surface. It had floated for millennia, and its architecture was a bizarre sight, various intersecting regular polyhedrons made from ancient materials found nowhere else on Coruscant; indeed, both the design and construction of the place were completely alien, seen nowhere else in the galaxy. To this day, entire teams of scholars studied the engineering of the Force-engines that kept it aloft and others excavated below the surface of Coruscant or scoured the galaxy to find any trace of the civilization who originally built them.

But untold thousands of years of practical use had left their mark – the polyhedral structures had been expanded with modern technology, and by now were merely the vaguely defined landscape upon which the Academy sprawled.

The Enclaves were the exception; each was housed in one of the original structures, carefully maintained and adorned in the emblems of its Order – The Knight's stylized sword, the wings of the Scouts, the scroll of the Scholars and the starburst of the Sages.

Inside, Obi-Wan and Anakin walked through brightly-lit halls toward the large, hollow center of the Keep; a vast common area where the Knights gathered to train, dine, debate, and simply spend their time when not sleeping or assigned to missions. Obi-Wan looked uncomfortable when they entered the vast, cavernous metal hall. "Not at home here, _brother_?" he said, emphasizing the honorific, used by the Sages Obi-Wan had supposedly joined first. Obi-Wan missed the joke and simply nodded.

"The Sages have simple cells for sleeping," he said, his eyes wistful, "And peaceful gardens for meditation. The Scouts have rooms upon rooms, and we meet up in the empty ones if we want to see each other. But here you all sit around drinking and fighting all day and no-one gets a moment's privacy."

Anakin laughed above the dull roar of the room. A crash of an overturned table snapped Obi-Wan's head toward the sound, but it was merely a particularly boisterous arm-wrestling contest.

Anakin followed Obi-Wan's gaze. "I love it here," he said, stretching his arms and shoulders instinctively as he watched the two Jedi struggle to overcome each others' strength. "If it's not too personal, why did you become a Knight?"

Obi-Wan deftly avoided a pair of Jedi grappling on the floor, but his foot landed on a smooth stone floor covered in sweat, and he stumbled slightly, attracting a few teasing jabs from the spectators of the match. To his credit, Anakin saw, Obi-Wan joined in the laughter and merely smiled and shrugged his shoulders broadly at the others, who called him "Trickster" with affection and returned their attention to the bout.

Returning to their conversation, Obi-Wan answered. "It was a calling," he said. "I felt I could bring something to the Order that it had never seen before."

Anakin punched Obi-Wan in the shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you did" he said, realizing that the older Jedi was reticent to discuss the topic further and changing the subject. "You helped bring me home alive, and that's good enough for me. Now let's find Master Damun and deliver the bad news."

Statues dotted the hall, giant stone monuments to heroes and battles across countless centuries. Seeing no sign of their Master, Anakin climbed up the nearest, a memorial for the Battle of Ossus. A crowd had gathered near the far entrance, and Anakin wagered that if there was a commotion in the Keep, Master Damun would be somewhere nearby.

A few minutes later, they had shouldered their way out the entrance with the rest of the crowd, and found not only Master Damun, but also Master Klyver, leader of the Scouts.

The two were, in every way that Anakin could imagine, the perfect contrast between Knight and Scout. Damun the Strong, a tall, stout human, his simple black uniform left rakishly unbuttoned, his black chest hair and thick beard glistening with sweat in the midday sun, his bald head gleaming; circling Klyver the Bold, a feline cathar, lithe and agile, every step silent and careful, but frighteningly swift.

Anakin slapped the back of a nearby Apprentice's head. "What's going on?" he asked.

The Apprentice, annoyed, turned and saw Anakin's uniform – the plain black, military jacket of a full Knight out on field work – and knew it was in his best interests to answer him. "Master Klyver came in and said it was time the Scouts had more breathing space," he whispered. "He said he was going to cut the statue of Master Beren in half and make a chair out of it."

"_Actually,_" Master Damun said, his hearing sharp as ever even from a dozen yards away, "This _flyboy_ claimed that he would cut _me_ in half, too. So I'm going to have to put him back in his place. Whaddya say, Knights? Are we gonna let these flyboys tear down our Keep?"

"NO!" came the reply, screamed from a hundred mouths at once, a deafening blast. Even Obi-Wan had shouted the expected reply, although he wore a wry grin even as he did so.

Master Klyver grinned, too, twirling his staff, igniting it. Purple energy arced across the length, forming a crackling nimbus at each end, with two smaller spheres at the handguards; a Lightstaff, one of the traditional Scout weapons. "All bark, Damun!" he yelled over the hollering Knights. "You're only making me-" he stabbed toward his opponent suddenly, viciously "-_angrier!_"

Damun dodged backward, spinning his still-unlit saber carelessly in his palm. He shook a finger at Klyver. "_Tsk tsk,_ old friend," he rumbled. "You rely too much on the Dark side. It makes you overconfident!"

Klyver scoffed. "You and your 'Dark side'," he mocked. "As if the Force cared what we _think_ about while we fight?" He jabbed again, but this time it was a feint, and Damun only barely dodged the real blow.

But Damun showed no sign of apprehension, scratching at his great black beard with his saber in-hand. "I think, old friend, that without _me-"_ he suddenly ignited his emerald-green blade, swinging in a circle from the shoulder, the impact nearly knocking Klyver's staff into his face "- you'd be a babbling Dark Jedi like in the stories, sacrificing virgins on some altar in a basement!"

Klyver pirouetted away, his staff high above his head, leaving him apparently exposed. "Well," Klyver said, his grin returning, "I wouldn't call what I do to Coruscant's virgins much of a sacrifice!"

The Scouts whooped in delight, and Klyver spun through a complex kata, his staff spinning around his body in glowing purple blur. Damun struck again and again at the defense, clashing purple-on-green each time, sparks of energy flying with each impact. Suddenly, Damun twisted his saber unexpectedly, and Klyver's staff was knocked aside – then, exploiting the leverage, Damun spun his whole body, bashing one end of the staff hard enough that Klyver was forced to release it or break his wrist.

The staff _spanged_ across the courtyard, rolling to a stop some distance from the gathered crowd, which now included more than a few Sages and Scholars as well. Klyver's eyes followed it for a moment, and then turned back to Damun, who held his own blade an inch from Klyver's face, its green glow reflected in Klyver's slit-pupil eyes. Klyver smirked. "I taught you that move," he said.

Damun glared at the cathar – then extinguished his blade. "Shit," he said, "I think you did!"

The two roared with laughter and embraced, and the Damun gestured for the Scouts to come into the Hall. They began pairing off with Knights, grabbing sparring swords and other wooden weapons from racks near the walls.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Joint training every week," he said, "And yet every time they make a fuss!" Beyond his facetious tone, however, Anakin could sense the slightly older Jedi's amusement.

As they moved back into the Hall with their comrades, Anakin wondered for a moment at how he would lead his order if he were called to do so; Damun and Klyver were each in their late seventies, young to be Masters of their respective Orders, but sustained by their training and the Force so as to be in the physical condition of men in their twenties. But still, Anakin thought, no Master of Knights led the Order forever. He pictured himself, saber in hand, leading his Knights into battle, crying the names of old Masters, perhaps even of Damun himself if anyone ever managed to fell the burly old bastard...

Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder to remind him of the dire news they had come to deliver. They approached Master Damun, who had his arm over Klyver's shoulder as the two swapped stories of their latest missions. Anakin came to attention, and called to his Order's Master.

"Damun the Strong, Master of Knights!" he shouted, and those nearby fell silent. "I bring you my report."

Damun saluted casually with his saber hilt. "At ease," he commanded, but Anakin relaxed only slightly. Damun laughed at this. "Anakin, stop acting like an Apprentice. What happened? Why are both of you so dour all of a sudden?"

Obi-Wan had come to attention when Anakin had, but had relaxed into his usual posture immediately after being put at ease. Nevertheless, Anakin could sense his displeasure at being forced to deliver the bad news.

"Master," Anakin said, "The Tion Hegemony, or at least some members of its military, are in league with the Unity Coalition. A Unity fleet attempted to intercept us, and worse, seemed to have anticipated our arrival."

Damun's face grew serious. "Suun?"

Anakin gave a sharp nod, filled with pride. "Delivered to the Hall of Judgment intact," he answered.

"But probably in need of new trousers," Obi-Wan interjected, and Damun roared with laughter again. Even Anakin couldn't help but join in, despite the seriousness of the threat.

Master Damun began walking through the hall, and Anakin and Obi-Wan followed at his side.

"Excellent work, Anakin," he said, pausing from time to time to correct a Knight's stance here, a Scout's grip there as he passed by. "And I can't imagine how difficult your escape must have been. How many troops? How many ships? Where did they attack you?"

Anakin described the situation and their escape. Damun laughed throughout, and Obi-Wan injected occasional praise for both Anakin _and_ himself.

Finally, they reached the center of the hall, where the oldest statue stood, that of Master Beren the Conqueror, who had claimed the Keep for the Knights upon the founding of the Academy. Leaning against it, Master Damun took a moment to mull over what he had heard.

"I'd probably have killed that smartass Unity bastard planetside, I'll tell you that," he said. "But it was probably smarter to keep him alive. He can tell everyone what he saw. We'll need every edge we can get when it comes to war."

"Do you really think it's inevitable?" Obi-Wan asked.

Damun nodded. "I think it's preferable, even. Better we strike now, before they can finish staging their forces throughout the Hegemony. Take the entire cluster, teach the damn Tionese the price for betraying us."

Master Klyver stepped out of the crowd, as if from thin air. "Agreed," he said.

Damun snorted. "Always showing off," he muttered, but grinned as he said it.

"The problem," Klyver continued, "Will be convincing our green friend. And who knows what Soris will think."

"Well," Damun said straightening, "We can discuss that tomorrow at the damnable debriefing we'll no doubt be summoned to when those idiots get back from Telarus. Today," he suddenly clapped an enormous hand onto Anakin's shoulder, startling him. "Today, Anakin needs to take his name. Any ideas, boy?"

Glancing at Obi-Wan, Anakin answered. Klyver looked particularly pleased, but Damun made a show of grumpiness. "Sounds like a name for a damn _Scout_," he grumbled, "But I suppose this is what I get for sending you out with the Trickster. Are you sure, boy?"

Anakin nodded, and Damun sprang lithely up the statue until he was ten feet above everyone else in the vast hall.

"KNIGHTS!" he cried, his voice resonating through the Force itself, turning every head toward him. He beckoned Anakin up, and Anakin followed, navigating the well-worn grooves of Beren's stone robes until he and his Master stood upon the ancient warrior's shoulders. Damun grasped Anakin's hand and held it aloft. Below them, a thousand sabers ignited, a dazzling flurry of a thousand colors, each a unique shade; one deep crimson, the next wild pink, another vivid blue; some were long, others short, others strangely shaped; each was one-of-a-kind, made by its owner, tailored to its wielder's taste. They blurred together in a blinding cacophony of color, the air rippling with the heat from the vast sea of blades.

"IN BATTLE, FORGED!" Damun called, and the crowd bellowed the words back to him, many using the Force to amplify themselves as well. It buffeted Anakin, but he remained in place, the stone warm and firm beneath his feet, his head held high.

"_IN STRUGGLE, BORN!" _Damun went on, ancient words from a time beyond memory or history, and the crowd replied again, echoing each line.

"_TODAY HE STANDS A SEEKER OF JUSTICE, A KNIGHT!"_

"_TODAY HE NAMES HIMSELF!"_

"_TODAY HE IS ANAKIN **SKYWALKER**!"_

Anakin's heart pounded in his chest as the Knights and visiting Scouts cheered, and he thought again of the future; of the adventures ahead, and the looming war. Damun had to slap him on the back to jog him from his reverie, and finally he climbed down to where Obi-Wan waited, embracing the older Knight. Anakin was hoisted onto the shoulders of one of his fellows, and passed around and tossed into the air. The rest of the afternoon and well into the night was a haze of cheering crowds, fistfights, strong drink, tightly packed sweating bodies, and boisterous, if often untalented singing.

It was the greatest day of Anakin's life.


	6. Notes for Chapter 3

"Never his mind on WHERE he WAS. WHAT he was DOING"

Lucas's Anakin is many things, but distracted, daydreaming? Never. Preoccupied with his mommy, at one point. But in Empire, Yoda seems to be saying that Anakin was brought low by a lust for ADVENTURE, something Lucas seems incapable of portraying.

I also like the idea of the Jedi as EXUBERANT, full of life. Lucas prefers his Jedi to be sexless and joyless, cloistered like monks; I prefer to think that the Jedi were MANY things.

When imagining the Jedi, even as a child, I had always assumed that "Knight" was a KIND of Jedi; it never occurred to me that Yoda would be a Knight. So when I sat down to lay out a structure for my Jedi Order, it became FOUR Orders: Knights, Scouts, Sages, and Scholars.

It's incredibly tempting to sit here and describe each in detail, but that's the purpose of the STORY, not this weird sort-of appendix. But the politics and history of my version of the Order are tricky bits of exposition to ladle in all at once, so I've decided to put it off as long as I can, to build a more gradual view of this organization which was referenced so briefly and sketched so lightly in the Original Trilogy.

PS: Sorry for the wait on this one, had to hack it to pieces and re-do it several times, eventually decided to just use the part that was done and call the rest a new Chapter! So stay tuned, the next bit is well underway. 


	7. Chapter 4: Battle Hymn

Chapter 4: Battle Hymn

The morning began in a blur. Anakin awoke slowly amidst his brethren in the hall. Morning sun filtered through the slitted windows a hundred feet up, casting rays of light down on the hundred or so Knights who had slept on the floor of the hall. Another Knight lay atop him, with dusky skin and black hair, her clothes nowhere to be seen. Anakin disentangled himself from her embrace, beginning to remember the indulgences and intimacies of the previous night.

Staggering to his feet, Anakin looked around for Obi-Wan. As night had fallen, the Apprentices had been gathered by their teachers, and they had covered the floor in thick furs before retiring. As always, however, a few had managed to avoid their instructors, and were now frantically struggling to gather their wits – and many cases, their clothes – and return to their rooms before they were missed. One, a pale-skinned blonde nearby, had given up on her clothes except for a pair of boots, which Anakin realized were his own. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and a wink, and then yanked one of the furs out from under another Knight and wrapped herself up before running toward the Apprentice wing.

A hand clapped on Anakin's shoulder, startling him. "An Apprentice," Obi-Wan said, his voice dripping with faux-disapproval. "Better hope she doesn't blame _you _when she's late for class."

Anakin followed her example and tried to grab a fur from the ground. "I think I might have had to much to drink," he ventured, wondering if at some point in the previous night he had tried to _eat _one of the furs – his mouth felt as though he had.

He pulled harder on the skin he had grabbed, and got a growl for his trouble; it was the arm of Hrroshr, a wookie. Scrambling away, Anakin looked plaintively at Obi-Wan, who tried to stifle his laughter.

"Come on," Obi-Wan whispered, tossing him a fur that was _not_ attached to anyone, "You need to change and get to the Senate. We're supposed to testify about what we saw."

Anakin looked around in a panic. "Are we late?" he asked, frantically wrapping the fur around his waist.

Obi-Wan tilted his head. "Really, Skywalker? The Senate meeting is scheduled for _noon_. They'll spend longer introducing us than it'll take us to get ready and get there. No, the reason I'm in a hurry," he pointed to Master Damun, lying on the floor, snoring loudly, "Is because _he's_ still asleep, and there's only _one thing_ that'll wake him up."

Anakin tried to think of what Obi-Wan could mean, but turned as he heard a shout from the other end of the Hall.

"_His wife_," Obi-Wan hissed, grabbing Anakin's shoulder and pulling him to the exit; as they left, Anakin saw the woman's booted feet kicking a path through the sleeping knights toward her husband, and was again grateful for Obi-Wan's training as a Scout.

* * *

><p>Darin straightened his uniform for the third time. He had been waiting for an hour, and now was finally inside the Senate chambers...only to be shunted into another waiting area.<p>

Two men were already there; each wore a black uniform with shiny gold trim, but no visible insignia or markings except a small silver sword at the epaulet. One was clearly a few years older, and had grown a respectable beard; the other was clean-shaven but looked somewhat less energetic. Their casual ease was off-putting; they _lounged_ in their chairs, the way he imagined kings lounged upon their thrones.

The younger one stood when he noticed the new arrival, and offered a hand. "I'm Anakin _Skywalker_," he said, giving a strange emphasis to the... name? Honorific? "I take it you were at Telarus?"

Darin took the hand and nodded. "Sergeant Darin Antall, 19th Marine Regiment. Currently..."

"Currently stuck here," the bearded man finished for him, and Darin couldn't help but laugh a little at the truth of his statement. "I'm Obi-Wan," he said, giving a half-wave, half-salute. "I empathize with your distress."

The younger one, Anakin, gave his companion a dubious glance, then looked back at Darin. "He means we feel your pain, Marine," he clarified, and Darin felt more than slightly patronized.

But as the young man turned to sit down again, a gleam at his belt drew Darin's attention, and he finally noticed the small metal cylinder which hung there; and suddenly, Darin knew them by their weapons: Jedi Knights, the Seekers of Justice, the legendary warriors dating back to before the foundation of the Republic.

Darin had never met a Jedi before, only heard stories. He felt his uniform dampen with sweat as he remembered the legends told at night in the barracks; of men who could move faster than lightning, cleave a tank in two with a sweep of a glowing blade, or read the very thoughts in their enemies' minds.

"So," Anakin continued, settling back into his chair, "What do you think'll happen to the illustrious Jennar Suun?"

Darin frowned. "Jennar Suun? The traitor? Has he been captured?"

Anakin grinned, and Obi-Wan gave a smug smile. "Well," Obi-Wan said, "I can't think of a less boastful way to say it, so yes; Anakin and I captured the hell out of him, just got him back yesterday. His trial is today."

Darin found himself hesitant to return their informal tone, but made an effort to sound casual nevertheless. "I didn't even know that was why I'm here. What does that have to do with me?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I have no idea. I thought you might have been told something."

Darin frowned more deeply. "You said you captured him _yesterday_. How could he possibly be tried _today?_"

Anakin mirrored Darin's expression. "Because," the young man half-growled, "He's a traitor, and we don't have time for ceremony during a war."

Obi-Wan laughed, but Darin felt that something was off; as if a nerve had been touched. "Such venom, young Skywalker," Obi-Wan said. "But did we go to war and no-one told me?"

Anakin waved a hand dismissively at the older Jedi. "The Unity Coalition _fired_ on us. They tried to shoot down the _Unbound_ over Telarus. They tried," the young man said, now waving toward Darin, "To _kill_ this Sergeant. What part of that sounds like 'peace' to you?"

Obi-Wan laughed even more hollowly than before. "Anakin, a few skirmishes doesn't mean we're at war. War with the Coalition could be disastrous; the Scouts think their fleet might be _larger _than our own, and our Fleet is a bloated military monstrosity."

Darin bristled but remained silent; Anakin did the same, without the silence. "Our Fleet fights for the Republic," he said, "Just like you and me. It's not monstrous, it's _necessary_. The Coalition isn't pulling punches; why should we? What did Master Jerrek say when he was Master of Knights? 'You delay conflict only to the advantage of your foe.'"

Obi-Wan leaned back, seemingly in relaxation, but his tone betrayed his frustration. "See, that's the problem," he said. "We should be seeking _justice_, not simply doing whatever the Republic sends us to do. We're _Jedi_, not their soldiers. We defend an ideal, not a government."

Darin decide to weigh in. "But sir," he said, instinctively comfortable using the title with a Jedi Knight, "The Republic is _founded_ on principles of justice. Republic Law is the only justice the galaxy has which was instated by a fairly elected government."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "'_Fairly elected'_, he says." Obi-Wan leaned forward again, his sleek black uniform impeccably clean. "If you think every Senator out there was fairly elected-" he began, but a knock interrupted him.

A red-armored Senate guard stood in the doorway. His knock had been hesitant; Darin suspected the man had, like Darin himself, never seen a Jedi in person. "The...the Senate will see you now," he stammered, and waited for the two Jedi to accompany him.

Anakin hopped to his feet impatiently. "About time," he said, and beckoned Darin and Obi-Wan as he began following the guard toward the Senate chambers. "C'mon, let's get in there. Don't you want to see the Senate chambers? Grab your moment in history?"

Obi-Wan slid off the chair and stretched before following. "Anakin," he said, "I don't think I'm as excited as you are to listen to old men drone at us from even older chairs. But come on, let's get this over with."

Anakin pointed to Darin. "You, too," he said, but Darin hesitated, to the Jedi's amusement. "Oh, who cares if they meant you. Aren't you tired of waiting?"

In times of war, Darin knew, the Jedi were a vital part of the Republic's military forces, usually placed in command; if this were indeed a war, it wouldn't be long before Darin could be taking orders from Jedi. And besides, he thought, it _was _tedious simply waiting his turn. He followed behind the two Jedi, and soon, they were inside the Senate chambers.

The room was more vast than Darin had even imagined; the ceiling was entirely clear, and the light came purely from the sky overhead. It illuminated an enormous amphitheater, packed with delegates from the Republic's countless territories and protectorates.

At a pair of podiums in the center, below the Chief of State's bench and those of his Consuls, Senator Rosh Berana and Fleet Imperator were in mid-argument when the pair of Jedi and Darin arrived.

"I simply do not believe that it is appropriate to suspend our most cherished judicial traditions simply to serve your grandstanding and saber-rattling, honored Imperator."

The Imperator scoffed and instead of answering, addressed the rest of the gathered Senate. "Senator Berana speaks of _saber-rattling_ while Unity boots are poised to march down our streets. He talks about _grandstanding_ while our supposed Tionese 'allies' harbor traitorous fugitives from us; and all the while the traitor in question languishes, continuing to escape justice for another second for every word the Senator uses to delay!"

Berana slammed his hand onto the podium. "_Justice_ is a fair trial, not a glorified execution," he shouted, but if he had meant to continue, he was forced to stop as the Senators rose to cheer the new arrivals.

Darin felt each his uniform's seams scratching lightly against his skin as he walked toward the dias where the Jedi already stood.

"Imperator certainly seems to be in a hurry," Obi-Wan murmured. "What does he know that we don't?"

Anakin smirked "Probably quite a bit, old man," he said, and Darin could see Obi-Wan's smile even from behind him.

Senator Rosh Berana nodded to Darin as he returned to his seat, and Darin nodded back; the Senator had chosen honor instead of cowardice on Telarus, saving Darin's life in the process; whatever their differences, the man had earned Darin's respect.

A page read Darin's name and rank, as well as the names of the two Jedi. The Jedi were called to speak first; Anakin's account was terse and professional, and Obi-Wan refrained from interjecting except on two occasions; each was a clever commentary on the tale, and each had the entire Senate roaring in laughter.

While Darin appreciated the charisma of the older Jedi, his preference was toward the younger; Anakin showed the sort of bearing that Darin would expect of a Marine, not the arrogance of an elite warrior-monk with mystical powers.

Darin's account came next; he paused only for a moment as the stares of uncountable Senators came to rest on him in tense silence; he recovered quickly, reminding himself that this was merely another debriefing, and a _redundant_ one at that, since he had already been debriefed twice _and_ submitted a written after-action report.

Senator Berana stood when Darin finished. "I'd like to commend the Sergeant for his courage," he said, addressing the Senate with a practiced ease. "Good men would have died had he not held to his duty so doggedly, even in the face of adversity. But should we fail to follow his example here at home? Should we shirk our duties to the Law, to our founding principles? Simply because of our fear of the Unity Coalition? Let us move this trial to a more appropriate date, and look more closely into the events I was so fortunate to survive on Telarus. Let us not be moved to hasty action simply out of a desire for vengeance!"

The Imperator, having returned to his seat beside the Chief of State, stood as if to speak, but suddenly an aide appeared at his side, whispering. Nodding, the Imperator straightened and set his hand on the aide's shoulder, bidding him to leave. Returning his attention to the Senate, he spoke.

"My friends, I have grave news," he said, but from the whispers circling the amphitheater, Darin felt certain that the Senators were about to hear no surprises. "Unity forces have landed on four planets in the Varada system. A state of war now exists between our two nations; I move that we execute the traitor Jennar Suun immediately as an enemy agent and saboteur."

Rosh Berana threw his arms into the air. "And since _when_, honored Imperator," he roared even louder than the growing din from the rest of the Senate floor, "Does the Republic go to war at the bidding of its _Fleet_ and not this Senate?"

The noise was becoming a genuine cacophony; some cheering the Senator, others booing, still others trying to shout their own statements to the room or argue with their peers. Darin shifted his weight uncomfortably; he wished a contingent of Unity troops would arrive _here _and give him something he was trained to handle.

Finally, the Chief of State rose from his seat, and the hall fell instantly silent. Basran Alahim had been elected by his fellow Senators only two years previously; the weight of his position combined with uncertainty at his response combined to create a deathly hush.

"It seems to me," the man said, and Darin could see his obvious discomfort; "That matters of war are best left to the Imperator. Would we strangle our loyal guard dog with its leash just as we come under attack? If the Imperator tells me it is war, then it is _war_. His request is granted; Jennar Suun will die tonight, and his blood shall herald a swift and glorious victory over the Unity Coalition!"

The room erupted into cheers, Senators – even many who had previously sided with Berana – pumped their fists in the air chanting "Victory!".

Darin looked at Anakin, already easing in to the idea of a true war and a Jedi giving the orders. But Anakin said nothing, waiting and watching his older friend, whose eyes were closed, his head down.

"Come on," Obi-Wan finally said, sadly. "Looks like those bastards have left us no choice."

And saying this, he ignited his saber, and stabbed it into the air, shouting "_VICTORY!" _with a deafening volume Darin could hardly believe; but then Anakin did the same, even louder, and Darin could no longer resist; drawing his own blaster pistol, he thrust it into the air, forgoing his bearing in order to join in this moment of pure, glorious, unbridled patriotism, his heart filled with pride and anticipation and excitement – and above all else, a burning loyalty to his Republic, and his Imperator Palpatine.


	8. Notes for Chapter 4

This chapter was the most difficult to assemble so far. I'm eager to establish the various ideological factions in the story, but I didn't want to have characters sit around arguing about philosophy or politics for an entire chapter. So this got pared down farther and farther to avoid infodumping all over the reader. Decompression! But it leads to a chapter that's very much set-up and no action.

(At one point, there WAS an attack ON CORUSCANT which allowed our three heroes to begin bonding and answered the war question right then and there, but it simply felt too contrived.)

So I'll admit this to be the least EXCITING chapter so far; they can't ALL be battles or feasts. It's connective tissue, but it's important stuff in the long run. It also allowed me to have someone view Anakin and Obi-Wan from the outside, which I think was fun. And the final sentence snapped a certain very important character into focus; before I wrote that line, I didn't really know how I was going to tell his story, or even what the sepcfics of it really were. But once he gained the title you see in this chapter, his arc came into sudden sharp relief, and his place in my story became clear.

Stay tuned for the next chapter: WAR! Also the next chapter is probably gonna be when we finally meet Masters Yoda and Soris, and start establishing the backbone of the Jedi's internal ideological structure.

Please leave a review! I'd love some more feedback. 


	9. Chapter 5: Tip of the Spear

Chapter 5: Tip of the Spear

Imperator Palpatine stood on the bridge of the Dreadnought _Unbound_, his hands outstretched before him, leaning against the viewing window, his eyes wandering across the impossible, mottled tunnel that was hyperspace. His uniform was the picture of elegance; pure white with only a few choice decorations upon his chest, the trim and epaulets woven from a fine golden cloth and a simple gold braid across the jacket.

Two Jedi Masters stood at his side, their faces inscrutable as they gazed into the void. Their uniforms were sleeker and almost completely unadorned, except for the insignia of their respective Orders. The human on the left was an enormous specimen, towering over the Imperator and his companion; his uniform was lustrous, shining black, and the insignia at his shoulder was a single stylized sword; a gleaming metal hilt hung at his hip. The cathar on the right was lithe and small-framed, a gunmetal staff strapped to his back and a pair of dull silver wings on his shoulder.

"Tell me, distinguished Seekers," the Imperator said, continuing his unusual habit of addressing the Jedi by the modern translation of their name, "Does your... Force... feel different when we are here, _between _places?"

Damun the Strong, Master of Knights, loosed a bellowing laugh which filled the warship's small bridge. The heads of several of the bridge crew snapped up in alarm and annoyance, but quickly returned to their stations. "Where there is life, Imperator," the Jedi said, still boisterous, "There is the Force. Where there is no life? There is the Force. It is part of all things, and it is as different in each place as each man is different from each other."

Palpatine nodded and turned to the cathar; Klyver the Bold, Master of Scouts, merely shrugged. "I cannot disagree," he said.

"_First time for everything," _Damun whispered loudly into Palpatine's ear, chortling and nudging the Imperator with his elbow; Palpatine winced slightly from the blow.

Klyver ignored him. "Imperator," he said, his voice almost _too_ smoothly polite, "I appreciate your including us on this mission, but our briefing was woefully incomplete. You asked us up here to join you because we are about to arrive; and yet we know almost nothing of what is to be done."

Palpatine clapped a hand on Damun's bicep. "I think your friend here would consider that part of the fun, yes?" he said, and Damun tossed his head back, roaring in laughter and nodding. But Palpatine turned back quickly. "I'm sorry your briefing was so sparse, but this mission is a simple one; my navigators assure me that we can exit hyperspace _in orbit_ around Crucis IV, and from there, we will descend in shuttles to the surface. While we establish a command post, our forces on the other side of the planet will begin dropping in, and moving toward the last known location of your Scouts; our joint force will move in from our side. Your briefing was light, frankly, because you're here mostly to help me coordinate our forces on the ground; we'll be far from the fighting unless something goes wrong. And this is a simple pincer; nothing fancy. No unnecessary risks; we've got half of the Third Fleet with us, and an entire Marine Expeditionary Legion. We're not just going to take this planet, we're going to _smash_ it. Intel assigned it the codename 'Operation Spearhead', but that seems too gentle; I would have preferred a name referring to a _hammer_. "

Klyver nodded. "I appreciate the lack of subtlety, actually; too often I'm forced to retrieve my Jedi in secret, under cover of darkness and deniability."

Palpatine now lightly touched Klyver's arm. "Not this time; we have the resources, and it's time we began to re-learn how to work as a single entity for the good of the Republic. Speaking of which..."

Palpatine had stopped and turned toward the turbolift, where Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi had stepped onto the bridge, further distracting the tense crew; each Jedi was flanked by two Marines. Darin Antall had stayed with Anakin, and brought Corporal Jens; he had assigned Corporals Solin and Anton to Obi-Wan. The four Marines came to attention before their Imperator, who put them at ease immediately, nodding in approval. Anakin and Obi-Wan gave short bows to their Master and Master Klyver, and then to Palpatine, who returned the gesture with practiced grace.

The Imperator addressed the Jedi and Marines: "Thank you all for coming; as the chief commander of all Republic military forces and commander of this operation in particular, I'd like to personally tell you how much I appreciate not only your bravery in volunteering to be the vanguard of this attack, but also the ease with which you have learned to cooperate."

An alarm sounded on the bridge, and Palpatine grinned. "Well, if that's not perfect timing, I don't know what is. We have arrived," he said, turning to face the window again as the mottled tunnel collapsed into streaked starlines, signaling their exit from hyperspace, "At what will be remembered as the swift and decisive victory which set the tone for the conflict that was to foll-"

He didn't finish the sentence before the first impact tossed him off his feet. Everyone not seated was knocked to the floor except for Klyver, who dropped into a combat stance but could find no target to fight or flee. Palpatine leapt swiftly to his feet with the urgency of a trained fighter. "_Report!_" he shouted to the ship's Captain.

But as what the Captain reported, the others could see plainly enough through the viewport. Hundreds of Unity ships _swarmed_ through space above the dull red surface of Crucis IV, in huge spiraling formations. Several smaller Republic warships were carved to pieces by the jagged white spheres which were unlike any starship anyone had ever seen fielded before.

The next swarm arrived before the report could be finished; and it became suddenly, sickeningly clear how they intended to destroy the _Unbound_; not through raw force or attrition, but through _momentum_, or rather through arresting it. Their engines had been disabled by the first hit; now the impacts tore through the hull from fore to aft, each of the hundreds of tiny pods imparting force to decelerate the behemoth.

It took only one more wave before their orbit was no more than a _descent_, a free-fall from five thousand miles above the surface. There was a horrible tearing sound and the deck _lurched_; from their sprawled positions, those on the bridge could see the rest of the _Unbound _spinning away from them, a severed stump where her command tower had stood.

When they hit the surface, few lived - and even those who did, for a long time after, were as still as those who did not.

* * *

><p><em>Coruscant; two days before the launch of Operation Spearhead<em>

Palpatine's blazing white-and-gold uniform shone like a beacon at the center of the re-purposed classroom. Sergeant Darin Antall sat with his squad in the undersized desks and watched silently as the Imperator gestured to their surroundings and smiled.

"As you can see, we're taking security _very _seriously on this mission," he said, and a slight laugh answered from the darkness of the seats. "No Unity spies had any reason to be _near_ this place, and it was chosen at random this morning. I apologize for the tight fit, but I believe the small sacrifice is worth the discomfort; and our all looking rather like overgrown children for a day!"

The laughter this time was more free, and Palpatine's eyes twinkled under the spotlight; he was the youngest Imperator in generations, but had a reputation for wisdom and strength well beyond his years. Darin had seen nothing to contradict this assessment.

"This mission," the Imperator began, pressing a small control in his hand to activate the classroom's holoprojector, "Is Operation Spearhead; intel's rather uninspired choice, I assure you, and not my own." The projector cast the ethereal form of a starmap. "This," Palpatine went on, pointing to one star in particular, causing the projection to zoom in until it had focused on a single planet in orbit around that star, "Is Crucis IV. Discovered by Unity scouts earlier this year, and we have solid intel that it is the site of a new weapons factory and shipyard, hidden on the outskirts of Unity territory in order to keep us from discovering it before it is fully operational.

"_This has failed_," Palpatine said, Darin detecting a note of steel-edged pride in the Imperator's voice, a tone he felt reflected in his own heart. "But unfortunately, the agents who discovered it have been captured, and are now presumed to be held somewhere in the complex they scouted.

"These two agents – were Jedi Scouts."

Even the discipline of the Republic Marines was no match for _that, _and Palpatine knew it. He waited for a moment for the whispers to die down. "Yes," he said, "We are currently planning this mission first and foremost to _rescue these two Seekers._" Darin was puzzled, having never heard the Jedi called as such in any official capacity before; Palpatine continued without pause.

"This mission is, simply put, an exercise in cooperation. Each of you will be assigned to a two-man fireteam, and each fireteam will _report to _a Jedi Knight or Scout. You will learn to obey their orders, and respect their abilities. In turn, you will demonstrate not only discipline and obedience, but the motivation and _initiative_ that have made this Corps great across the centuries."

A shout of agreement came from somewhere in the seats, followed by the sharp _smack_ of a fellow Marine enforcing better discipline across the back of the first Marine's shaved head.

Palpatine, Darin thought, did a very convincing job of pretending not to notice, and an even better job concealing his smile. "But this mission does have a broader purpose," he said. "We are bringing the entire 2nd Expeditionary Legion with us, as well as the entire Third Fleet. We are going to grind this half-completed outpost into _dust_. And it won't be difficult, or glorious; it'll be an embarrassment to the honor of you service to crush a band of construction engineers and scientists and cheap security, and for that I apologize. But this battle will be a cheap and easy boost for morale; a way to get the war off on the correct foot in the eyes of the public. Make no mistake; I intend to milk this battle for everything it's worth and more. And hopefully the Senate and their constituents will buy it, and _stay the hell out of our way_ so we can bear down on the real challenges that will lie ahead."

"Individual assignments are awaiting word from the Jedi," Palpatine said, and Darin realized that the Imperator likely had many other preparations to oversee; "I will see all of you aboard the _Unbound_ tomorrow. Platoon commanders, release your Marines to liberty until then." And without another word, Imperator Palpatine hopped off the stage and out of the light...

...And climbed the shallow steps until he stood directly over Sergeant Antall.

"Sergeant," he said, offering a hand to help Darin unfold himself from the child's desk. Darin accepted, feeling his face redden in embarrassment. But Palpatine made no comment, merely spoke in a quiet but clear voice. "Sergeant, I need you to come with me," he said, and Darin followed as the Imperator strode out into the school's courtyard.

They had been inside for over an hour, and Darin's eyes stung in the sunlight; above, the blue skies of Coruscant held only the barest smattering of clouds; a good day to be a Marine on liberty in a city as big as a planet. But Darin knew that his liberty had become irrelevant; his Imperator had a mission for him.

Palpatine took a seat on a tiny bench while Darin remained standing, not _quite _at attention. "Sergeant," he said, "The Jedi have not yet responded to me."

Darin swallowed. _Nothing?_ He wondered, but remained silent. Palpatine went on.

"I watched the security footage of you waiting in the Senate with the two Knights who retrieved Suun. I didn't pry into your conversation, but it was clear by your body language that you managed to become quite familiar with them quite quickly."

Darin thought back. "I wouldn't go _that_ far..." he ventured, but Palpatine held up a hand, gently.

"Sergeant, it will have to do," he said. "The Jedi live apart from us. They leave their Academy on missions and assignments, or in groups with their own. They rarely interact like that with _anyone_ who isn't a part of their Order. It makes them difficult to reach; difficult to relate to, at least so far."

Darin nodded, understanding but awaiting his Imperator's explanation without speaking; he had no need to impress the Imperator with _cleverness_, that was what _war_ was for.

"So you will come with me to my shuttle; we will ferry you to the Jedi Academy, and you will seek out and contact either of the two Seekers you met. Tell them of the plan, and ask them to let you speak to their Master. Hopefully, the famous Damun the Strong will recognize the importance of this mission. Any questions?" the Imperator finished, already moving toward his waiting shuttle.

Darin shook his head, even though the Imperator could not see him. He did not wonder _"What if they say no?"_ Or _"What if I fail?"_. His Imperator had assigned him a mission, and Darin Antall would carry it out.

Anakin sat cross-legged halfway up the stone steps of the Jedi Auditorium as the four masters entered, his fellow Knights surrounding him on every side. Somewhere to the left they began to mix with the Scouts, who faded in the Scholars, who were next to and mingled with the Scholars. A few feet to Anakin's right, past a half-dozen of his brethren, was the path to the entrance, cutting a chunk out from the amphitheater's stair-step rows. Across the gap, Anakin could see a few Sages sitting quietly; Anakin couldn't tell if they were meditating or simply staring into space, bored.

An unexpected tap on Anakin's shoulder; standing above him was...

"Sergeant Darin Antall, 19th Marine Regiment, currently assigned to the 2nd Expeditionary Legion, sir," the Republic Marine said, his tone formal but not cold. Anakin stood and shook the Marine's hand.

"Well if it isn't my favorite stormtrooper! What brings you here? Actually, how did you even _get _here?" Anakin suddenly realized he had never seen _anyone_ at the Academy who was not a Jedi. It was a troubling thought; not only that his Order were so insular, but that he had never even questioned it before.

Antall gestured vaguely behind him. "The Imperator brought me here in his shuttle; apparently he's permitted to visit in times of war, but he said he'd prefer to send someone more comfortable with your Order."

Anakin couldn't help but laugh in shock. "And after our _five minutes_ of conversation, you're the best he's got?" At their feet, Anakin's fellow Knights were eying the Marine with suspicion and curiosity; "I think we all need to get out more," Anakin said, as much for _their_ benefit as Darin's. "But this is excellent! I'm honored to work with you, Sergeant. But please, the Masters are about to have their Conclave. You'll need to wait until it's done." A thought occurred to Anakin, and he deftly stepped around his sitting comrades to the nearest Master, Cari Ironfist.

"Master," he said, managing to bow even while bent-double. "The Imperator has sent an emissary. Is there any reason he cannot remain for the conclave?"

Master Ironfist stroked her long braid in thought for a moment. "Well," he said eventually, "I'd have to ask a scholar about any _rules_, but if we're at war it seems damn foolish to go excluding the bloody Imperator from our discussions." She looked up at Darin. "Stay, stormtrooper," she commanded, "And pay attention; your Imperator should know more of us if we're to war alongside him." She turned back to Anakin. "Answer his questions, because I'm sure he'll have plenty. We're not a _secret_ society, after all, and the better the Imperator understands us, the more wisely he can deploy us."

Anakin bowed in acknowledgment and moved back to his previous place. "Where's your friend Obi-Wan?" Darin asked.

Anakin pointed across the auditorium to where the Scouts sat; Darin could hardly pick the man out amidst the sea of faces, but he did note that where Knights seemed to mostly favor some variation on the iconic lightsaber – with plenty of exceptions – the majority of Scouts laid staffs of various description across their legs as they sat. He pointed this out to Anakin, who nodded.

"It's the traditional weapon of the Scouts," Anakin explained. "Originally the Jedi were all human, so it was simple; a staff for a Scout, a sword for a Knight. But as we included more species in our ranks, it became impractical to assign them all a single weapon of a single design; and once it was allowed for _some_ Jedi to design of their own weapons, it wasn't long before we realized that it was silly to restrict _any_ Jedi on their choice of weapon. But the tradition still mostly stands, and for good reason; it's not an easy task to design your own weapon from scratch, and most people prefer something that's proved reliable across _thousands_ of years. And it's easy to make your lightsaber unique without sacrificing the basic design, so you mainly see variations on that theme."

As he spoke, Anakin led Darin to the railing above the entryway. "Now be still;" he cautioned, "The Masters of the four Orders are about to arrive; for a week now they've been conferring with the lesser Masters of their respective Orders, who have in turn been speaking to _us_-" he gestured at his fellow Knights – "And getting _our_ opinions on the subject. Each Master represents not only his own wisdom, but the will of his Order."

Anakin elbowed his fellow Knights out of the way so that Darin could have a clear view. Below, the first Masters walked side-by-side into the Auditorium, drawing cheers from their Orders. Damun the Strong absent-mindedly twirled his lightsaber's hilt, and Klyver the Bold's eyes instinctively scanned the open-air amphitheater for signs of danger, despite centuries of safety and a strictly-enforced no-fly zone around the Academy.

Darin watched in silence, then his eyes widened as the next Master entered.

Yoda the Wise, Seeker of Truth, Master of Sages came hobbling after, his expression dour as ever. Darin opened his mouth to ask, but Anakin answered before the words could be found.

"No-one knows the name of his species," Anakin said, "But he's the only one who's ever been seen. He's been head of the Order of Sages for nearly five hundred years." ,

Darin continued to stare at the small, shriveled, green-skinned creature who limped toward the center of the amphitheater. "_This _creature is a Jedi?" he said, his confusion amusing a few Knights standing nearby. "What is _his _weapon? How does he _fight?"_

Anakin laughed. "He _doesn't_, you ass!" He punched the Marine in the arm. "And Sages don't carry weapons. You've never heard of a Jedi Sage? Seekers of Truth? Living their lives in excruciatingly boring meditation and insanely tedious debates about the nature of life and the soul and all that nonsense?"

Darin shook his head in wonderment, and Anakin grew more concerned about how detached the Jedi had become from the rest of the Republic. "The only Jedi I've ever heard of were warriors," Darin explained. "Do these Sages ever venture outside the Academy?"

"Rarely," Anakin admitted. "If ever. They prefer peace and quiet. Unlike..." he gestured downward, as the Master of Scholars finally arrived.

"Master Soris the Wild," Anakin said as the figure below walked with a casual ease toward the raised platform at the center of the circular stands. "The most important Jedi of the last...maybe _ever_. He took command of the scouts eight hundred years ago and-"

Darin's hand shot up in front of him, as if holding Anakin at bay. "Wait, he did what _when?_"

Anakin took a moment to understand the Marine's confusion, then laughed again. "Oh, right; I suppose that looks a bit unlikely if you're not used to it. He looks to have what, seventy years? But the first two you saw, Damun and Klyver, they're that old, and neither of them looks old enough to even be my father. As for Soris, I promise you he's older than most dirt you've stepped on in your life. The Force sustains us," he said, thumping his chest, "Keeps us from slipping into decay and death. Jedi almost never die of sickness or age; Sages pass on in a ritual of some kind, claiming that they "become one with the Force". Crazy bastards, if you ask me, but it's their way. Before Soris changed everything, apparently Scholars used to be the longest-lived of the Orders, but nowadays they die for the same reasons as the Scouts and Knights; our work is _dangerous_ and eventually it catches up with you."

Darin frowned. "Wait, the work of the _Scholars_ is dangerous?"

Anakin gave a wry smile. "Apparently it didn't used to be. They used to sit around in dusty old libraries reading the same dusty old tomes as their dusty old predecessors did. But after Soris took command of the Order, he began slowly shaping the Seekers of Knowledge into what you see today. Nowadays they spend two-thirds of their time exploring alongside the Scouts or out at various ancient dig sites on newly-discovered worlds; and that's the ones who _don't_ volunteer to be Infiltrators, partnering with Scouts and Knights to steal the secrets of the Galaxy's other military powers."

Darin nodded in approval. "Sounds like he did a great thing for his Order," he ventured, and Anakin felt a pang of regret; for it surely must seem that simple, to an outsider.

"He _did_," Anakin said, cautiously; how to describe the politics of an organization whose origins predated _recorded history_ to someone who thought all Jedi were Knights and carried lightsabers? He tried to simplify things as best he could, the way he had done himself so many years ago: "But while the Scholars might be more active now, it's shifted the balance of power, and left the Sages in an awkward position."

Darin cocked his head. "How so?" he asked. But before Anakin could answer, the Conclave began.

Soris, as the eldest of the four, made the opening statement. "We are gathered today, Seekers of Truth, Justice, Knowledge and Adventure, to discuss the role we shall play in the upcoming conflict. Each of us shall speak in turn, from the youngest to the oldest. Master Damun?"

Damun the Strong holstered his saber-hilt and looked out at the gathered Jedi; at least two thousand, and probably a hundred or more away on missions, if Anakin had to guess.

"This one is simple," he said, and Anakin was shocked by how quiet and serious the man sounded. "The Republic is under attack. As her guardians, we must put ourselves at her disposal."

There was an approving murmur from the crowd, and even Darin nodded.

Klyver paced in a tight circle behind him. "This is, of course, my view as well," he said, almost dismissively; Anakin wondered if the cathar was distracted by something more specific.

All eyes turned to next to Yoda, and Anakin tensed, remembering the heated debates that occurred during the previous Conclaves.

But the small green creature's eyes were sad, and weary. "I too," he said; his tiny, gravelly voice amplified by years of practice rather than any Force trickery, "Have reached this conclusion." There was an audible gasp from the crowd; Darin looked at Anakin, puzzled.

"Master Yoda, and frankly the Sages as a whole," Anakin explained, his voice low, "Almost _never_ counsel for war. They urge restraint and negotiation. This isn't exactly _unprecedented _but it might be the first time in something like five hundred years. Yoda himself has never done it before, as far as I know."

"All of our strength to this endeavor, shall we dedicate" Yoda continued, "So that to peace, our galaxy might return."

Anakin gave a wry smile when he saw Darin's face. "He just talks that way," he said with a shrug. "We have no idea why."

Finally, it was Soris's turn to speak. He held up his hands to quiet the crowd, who still reeled from Yoda's wholehearted endorsement of armed conflict. Once there was quiet, he began.

"Now only a fool," he said, a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his well-worn face, "Would expect Soris the Wild to stand here and dissent when _Yoda_ calls for war." A ripple of laughter came and went. "But call this a day for miracles, because while I'd never suggest we pass up a chance to crush our enemies, I do advise _caution_ going forward with this one. The Unity Coalition should know better than to attack us; the fact that they _have done so regardless_ indicates either fatal stupidity... or perhaps that they know something we don't. If they are stupid, well then caution will only serve to momentarily delay their inevitable defeat. But if they are clever, and have an advantage we have not guessed... then we should take care not to let _ourselves _become the fools in this pairing.

"But we have heard each voice, and for the first time in as long as anyone – well, anyone except _me_ – can remember, there is no need for debate. We will send word to the Chief of State and the Imperator; the Jedi stand ready for war!"

The Knights and Scouts cheered the loudest; the Scholars were split roughly down the middle, and across the divide, Anakin could see many of the Sages looking sombre or even betrayed. Darin surveyed the crowd and Anakin could see him drawing the same conclusions.

"You see," Anakin said as the crowd began to disperse, "We're not what you think. We have _thousands of years_ of history and politics, maybe _tens_ of thousands. This Conclave was the shortest in history, probably, but not everyone is happy about the result. Yoda took a risk in straying from his usual line, and the political fallout among the Masters below him will probably be severe."

Darin looked somewhat crestfallen, so Anakin slapped him on the back. "But the good news is that whatever the Imperator wants, we're up for it! So let's get you to Damun and Klyver and see what they have to say about it, eh?"

* * *

><p>Palpatine staggered to his feet amidst the wreckage. Around him, the bridge was mostly intact; emergency forcefields had activated and although they had overloaded immediately, the majority of the impact had been dissipated. So instead of hitting the ground at terminal velocity, they'd simply hit <em>very hard<em>.

Klyver was the next to recover, waking and springing instantly into a defensive position, his face barely twitching as he landed on his sprained ankle. He began pulling pieces of metal aside until he found Damun; still unconscious, bleeding heavily from cuts on his face, his leg pinned by a twisted knot of the ship's superstructure; no amount of Jedi technique could move it.

The portside half of the bridge crew were now standing, dazed but alive; the other half had been on the starboard side, now a crumpled mess; Damun had barely been close enough to the center to survive.

Darin, Anakin, Jens, and Anton were alive and relatively unscathed; Obi-Wan had broken his leg, and Solin's skull had been crushed by a stray piece of debris.

Klyver had found an emergency medkit on one of the intact bulkheads, and was tying a tourniquet around Damun's upper leg, then cleaning his other wounds. He looked up at Palpatine as the Imperator surveyed the scene in horror. Klyver managed to keep his voice even, and only the tiniest sneer crossed his face as he said it: "A swift, decisive victory, eh Imperator?"

Palpatine's face grew still; he stumbled toward Solin's body, barely keeping his balance at first, but steadier with each step. He grabbed the Marine's rifle from where it lay on the deck and hefted it.

His white uniform was in tatters; his gold braid torn at one end, dangling limply to one side. His face a mess of blood and soot, he looked into Klyver's slitted cat-eyes and held his gaze.

"The day's not over yet, Seeker."


	10. Notes for Chapter 5

There's nothing quite so much fun as having reached the payoff of your setup; while obviously the story has a looooooong way to go, the last bits of BASIC exposition are finally out of the way. The Conclave in this chapter has been rearranged and moved around several times, until it finally found a place where it could a) reasonably occur, 2) be explained to someone

This chapter and the next were outlined more carefully in advance, so I'm hoping to update again sooner rather than later. It's been a slow start, overall; but the pace is picking up...

Thanks for the reviews! If you read the story and enjoy it, the best thing you can give me is a review! If you read it and hate it, the best way to prevent me from doing more things you hate is to TELL me you hate it; i.e., WRITE A REVIEW!

EDITED: I just realized that this chapter is actually the longest so far, and that each chapter thus far had until now been slightly shorter than the chapter before.

My renewed enthusiasm for this project has one clearly identifiable source: Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality. I don't think I can link it here, but if you've never read it, Google it, I guess? I'm several _years_ late to that party, but it's really invigorated me, and I credit it with pulling me out of the writing slump I was in for a while there.

EDITED AGAIN: I just realized that my formatting was off; my horizontal breaks weren't present. If the flow of this chapter or the previous seemed odd, give it a skim again now that it's fixed.


	11. Chapter 6: Flat of the Hammer

Chapter 6: Flat of the Hammer

Anakin felt uneasy as the limbs fell to the ground; he had killed more people today than in his entire life up until that point, no matter how he measured it.

The plan had been simple enough; count on the 2nd Expeditionary Legion landing sufficient troops on the other side of the planet, continue with the mission as intended. But there were _so...damned...__**many**_ of them!

This was the fourth speeder platoon they'd encountered; they had seen droid probes earlier, but had been unable to stop them before they sped off to make their report.

The speeders lay scattered in pieces all around, smoke rising from the more volatile components. Of the twelve bodies, only four were visible, and one of those lay in pieces on the rocks in front of Anakin. Most had died as their speeders had detonated, and the four who survived had been cut down swiftly by the Marines' blaster fire – except one, who had made it to Anakin's position before being cut down more violently.

Anakin swung his saber in a simple kata, contemplating the glowing blade. A simple flick of his wrist had extinguished a life, with no more difficulty than swatting a fly; he gazed into the blue glow for a moment in silent awe of the weapon's power, and saw Darin Antall watching the blade as well.

* * *

><p><em>6 hours earlier<em>

The wreckage was smoking, but no fires burned; Sergeant Darin Antall shoved upward and saw a cloudy blue sky above him. He drew a deep breath and hauled himself free from the debris, checking for any injuries. Nearby he say the bloody mess of Solin's head, and felt a wave of frustration rise within himself; a good Marine had died without even the chance to defend himself, without making a stand or firing a shot. He flexed his hands, feeling the crackle of a dozen tiny cuts and burns, the stinging reminding him that he was still alive, and still had a mission to accomplish.

Turning his thoughts back to the living, he saw the Imperator struggling to his feet nearby; several other crew members moaned from beneath the wreckage. Only a few feet from Darin were Jens and Anton, apparently unhurt, pulling at a piece of one of the many bridge stations. Obi-Wan's leg was pinned underneath the upturned console, bone showing through; the man's face was a pale, damp, unreadable mask as the two Marines managed to pull hard enough for him to yank his bloody limb out from underneath. His eyes closed as Anton administered a painkiller from the Jedi's medkit, and then Darin found Anakin.

Another console lay atop the young Jedi, but rather than hitting sharply enough to snap his bones, it had merely become wedged in place among the piles of debris, trapping the Jedi underneath; Anakin's breathing was nothing but a ragged cough, and Darin looked around frantically for a way to free him.

A glint in the sunlight caught his eye; the Jedi's weapon, his lightsaber. Darin felt strange even lifting the device, the symbol of the legendary order, famed since the dawn of history. But he ignored the feeling, his instinct toward his fellow warrior taking precedence; he pointed the cylinder away from himself and pressed the small round button.

The blade sprung into existence, a clear, icy blue beam that inexplicably _stopped_ midair roughly three feet from the hilt. Carefully, his hand shaking, Darin moved his wrist in a small circle, cutting through the deck plating – he could _feel_ a hint of resistance, as though the blade were a paddle in water – allowing Anakin to fall backward and struggle free.

Darin felt himself sweating, and an ache in his arm, which spread quickly to his chest. His legs buckled and he fell to his knees; the blade, although still lit, grew dimmer each second. He tried to release it but found himself unable to open his hand.

Anakin coughed on the deck for a moment, ejecting chunks of black rubber from his lungs. Darin couldn't speak through the pain, the strange _weakness_ that gripped his body, but he managed to reach out and grab the Jedi's ankle.

Anakin turned to look, and the Jedi's eyes widened. He grabbed Antall's wrist, the one which held the saber; carefully, the Jedi pried the weapon backward out of Darin's grip. The blade, now nearly transparent, extinguished instantly as Darin's finger left the button, and he felt a powerful wave of relief shudder through his body.

"Careful," Anakin warned, igniting the blade to test it; it burned brilliant blue for a few seconds as the Jedi performed a few simple swings before extinguishing it again. "The weapon of a Jedi draws its power from the Force; a Jedi channels that power through his body. The Force renews me, fills me with its power in an endless stream. It fills you as well, but much too slowly to power the blade."

Darin accepted the Jedi's offered hand and stood, still unsteady. "Thank you, sir," he said, barely able to breath the words.

Anakin laughed and slapped the Marine on the back, nearly toppling him over. "Thank _you_, Sergeant," he said, and kicked the console that had pinned him, "I was about to choke to death on some hunk of this thing's innards. Would have been a sad death for a Jedi Knight."

Darin glanced at Solin's body, where the Imperator had taken the Marine's weapon and made a comment to the cathar Jedi. "A sad death for any warrior, sir," he said sadly, and began checking his remaining Marines for injuries.

* * *

><p>Darin watched as Anakin deactivated the glowing blade and sheathed the hilt at his waist, his arm aching slightly in memory of his failed attempt. Was this how the Jedi determined who could use this mystical... Force? The Unity trooper's dismembered body smoldered on the strange, smooth surface; Darin, following closely behind Anakin, stepped carefully over the corpse. Anakin was a talented... swordsman? The word felt strange in Darin's mind, but there seemed to be no better descriptor. But the boy was inexperienced; Darin knew the look in the Jedi's eyes: the leaden reality of death shadowed his face, and Darin wished he could say something to him, as he would to his own Marines; but they were on a mission, and he was a Jedi. Somehow Darin knew it wasn't his place.<p>

Red stone stretched in every direction, grooved in long continuous lines roughly two inches wide that seemed completely unbroken, following the contours of the landscape but otherwise proceeding east-west, as if they were latitude lines on a map. They made navigation easier, but pained the eyes after a little while, and Darin was at a loss to understand how they could have come to exist in the first place. They moved forward cautiously, moving from cover to cover; the rock constantly swept upward or downward into various curving shapes, forming hills or valleys, occasionally even strange maze-like collections of small mesas. Anakin had earlier said it looked as if someone had _seen_ a landscape, then attempted to sculpt an imitation in red clay.

Darin stayed close to Anakin, ever-alert. But he could not force the image of the dimming blue blade from his mind. "Sir," he asked, and waited for Anakin to realize the Marine was addressing him. "Your lightsaber...could a droid wield it?"

Anakin frowned. "The Imperator asked the same question. The answer is no, Sergeant, not for any longer than you did. No technological power source can maintain a lightsaber blade for any meaningful length of time. The droid would be drained of power and stop functioning in probably about the same time as _you_ did."

Darin absorbed this information for a moment, considering possibilities. "Thank you, sir. How do you even-"

Anakin cut him off. "Sergeant, I understand your curiosity, but it's not something we usually talk about with outsiders." He gave a plaintive smile. "Darin, I know you see it and see a weapon you want to understand, but a lightsaber, or whatever form a Jedi makes his weapon, it's...it's a _part_ of you in a very strange and personal way. Can we not talk about it, especially now? It's not useful to you or your Marines. Discount its use from any tactics you plan, unless it's the final option."

Darin nodded. "Didn't mean to pry," he said, and continued in silence.

Anakin's mention of other forms was particularly appropriate; of the six other Jedi who had been in the bridge-segment of the _Unbound_, only two wielded the iconic blade, famed in song and story.

Solin had been the only Marine casualty, leaving their force at seven Jedi and fifteen Marines; Obi-Wan had remained behind, and Anton had joined Darin and Jens in Anakin's fireteam.

In addition to Anakin were four Knights and a pair of Scouts; they and their Marines had been waiting for the next turbolift up to the bridge to join Anakin and Obi-Wan in hearing the Imperator's briefing. Each Jedi wore sleek, red robes beneath gleaming white armor; the armor itself was unique to each Jedi, although its pieces came from same standard-issue suit that Darin and his Marines wore.

The oldest Knight of the four was Vorin, a human man who had taken his name, "Skullcrusher", almost sixty years ago. Instead of the traditional saber, he held a longer tube, which when ignited formed a _sphere _of glowing orange energy which the Jedi, who looked as young as Darin himself, wielded like a mace. His armor was almost the same as any Marine's, with a few joints pared down for easier movement.

The next oldest was Sanhes Pale – Darin had no idea what his name's significance might be – another male human whose vibrant pink saber was as _distracting_ as it was lethal. This Knight's armor was simpler, and like Anakin's consisted only of the arm and leg plates of a Marine's armor, along with shoulder pauldrons that Darin suspected were mostly for show. Next was a female, Shari Lifetaker, whose royal-blue double-bladed lightsaber she twirled like a baton in battle. Her armor included the open-faced helmet of a Republic trooper. The youngest Knight besides Anakin was Woran Firebreather, mostly humanoid but with strange eyes and a crop of feathers where a human's hair would be. He had another traditional saber, this one a much lighter blue than Anakin or Shari, and his armor was simply the chest and leg-guards of trooper armor.

The two Scouts were farther ahead, their Marines unofficially joined into a rear-guard squad behind. The senior Scout was Carin Shenal, a woman who Darin would have called thirty but who Anakin had told him to be well over one hundred years old; she used the traditional Scout weapon, a metal staff with spherical handguards, which crackled with red energy along its length. Her armor was much like Anakin's, but showed her age more clearly than her face: cracks and burns covered its various surfaces, polished but still noticeable.

But it was her junior comrade's weapon which had most interested Darin, and changed the way he thought about the Jedi Scouts as a whole. His name was Farn Courana and he used, instead of the traditional melee weapon, a _sniper rifle_ powered by the same principles as any Jedi weapon.

Farn was a talz, a white-furred species with several eyes and strange, proboscis-like mouths. Whereas Anakin and the other Knights were reluctant to discuss their weapons, placing a near-spiritual significance in them, Farn was more than willing to explain his own choice.

"Takes some getting used to," the talz buzzed, his translator rendering the sounds into words Darin could understand. "I designed it myself with the help of a friend of mine, a Scholar. Essentially it removes the limiting factor that defines the length of a saber's blade; the maximum range is about five thousand yards, but I still need to be able to _see_ my target, or at least _sense_ it. The beam stops where my target is; I define its length through the Force."

Darin had asked if this was difficult; the talz had given a strange sound which the translator had rendered as a sigh. "It is very difficult," Farn had explained. "A few other Scouts have used the design, but at least one had to give up on it. I have to interface directly with the mechanism in a less intuitive way than most Jedi do with their weapons; I _create _the connection between the weapon and the target, and essentially the "blade" fills the space in-between. The advantages are incredible, though: if I can sense a target through the Force, I can hit it through nearly any intervening cover. The disadvantage is that I need the same time it would normally take to aim a similar weapon. For most Jedi, this is an eternity. And the blade doesn't just leave a neat little hole in everything in-between; it'll leave burns and damage, and it'll mess up any electronics, but it doesn't _travel_ like a blaster bolt does, it just sort of._.. becomes."_

Darin pondered this as he followed Anakin across the brick-red landscape. The talz had taken out two speeders each time they had been attacked, the other Jedi accomplishing the same thing at a lesser range apparently simply through manipulation of the Force; the bikes had sputtered and exploded at the snap of Carin Shenal's fingers, or the wink of Vorin Skullcrusher's eye. Darin had noticed that the Jedi seemed to prefer, or perhaps even _need_ some kind of gesture in order to work their strange magic.

Darin heard the whine of another speeder bike; small and lithe, these bikes held one rider and mounted a pair of heavy blasters. At twelve bikes per platoon, the Coalition had now sent nearly fifty troops at them. Even a full-sized garrison would have difficulty scouring the vast area between where they had been sighted and where they were, yet _four _patrols had found them. This one was made five; a sudden _whum_ and the first shot was fired by Farn Courana, the nearest speeder veering to the side as its rider fell, decapitated.

The other eleven approached, their engines growing louder as they approached. Another shot from the talz, another bike crashing riderless into the rock, which Darin had noted seemed unmarred by the explosions; not a single piece had broken loose, nor were any loose rocks visible in the seven hours they had traveled and fought so far.

The bikes swooped over a hill and opened fire, well outside their intended range; the bolts pattered off the unbreakable stone, far from their intended targets. Darin aimed down his scope, glancing at the Jedi, who had ignited their weapons, swatting the blaster bolts aside as if they were no more than a minor irritation.

Carin snapped her fingers, and three bikes exploded. The rest didn't last much longer.

* * *

><p>The communications equipment sparked slightly, and Imperator Palpatine pulled the control panel loose to find where the power was coming from.<p>

He found it, and sighed. "Nothing," he announced. "Just a capacitor. It'll discharge in a few minutes."

Nearby, Obi-Wan watched the whole scene in growing frustration. He laid next to Master Damun while Master Klyver tended their wounds; the painkillers were due to run out in a few hours, anyway, so Obi-Wan had given up his share to help keep Damun comfortable; the grizzled Jedi had almost certainly already lost his eye and leg, and Obi-Wan was becoming more and more concerned that they would all lose far worse on this bizarre red planet.

The Imperator was ordering a few of the bridge crew to search through the wreckage – a fool's errand, Obi-Wan knew; there was nothing in that mess which would generate the electricity they needed to power the comm system.

Palpatine himself, however, had impressed Obi-Wan so far. He had remained calm yet determined, and even self-assured; he seemed, to all the world, as if he was still completely confident in this mission, in spite of any minor setbacks like the destruction of his flagship and the complete impossibility of rescue without some kind of communications. Obi-Wan knew the importance of the _mind_ in situations like this, and a cursory glance at those of the bridge crew showed that they were shaken but not panicked.

Obi-Wan wished he could share that feeling, but his assessment of their options left little room for hope.

Next to him, Damun opened his good eye, growling. Klyver reached for the painkillers, but Damun's hand shot out and gripped the cathar's wrist. "Don't wanna die...in my sleep, old friend," he said, a smile managing to play across his burned face.

Klyver rolled his slitted eyes. "I was hoping I could at least get you to die with your mouth shut," he said, heaving an exaggerated sigh of feigned annoyance. "But I suppose we can't always get what we want."

Damun laughed a hacking, pained laugh, and Obi-Wan leaned against a piece of bulkhead, trying to think of a way off this planet.

* * *

><p>The factory complex loomed in the distance, and Anakin blinked in disbelief as he looked through the macrobinoculars. "That thing's... <em>huge!<em>" he exclaimed, his voice a shrill whisper.

They had been ambushed a _seventh_ time by Unity speeders, and finally decided to take some for themselves; a simple push with the Force and the riders had been unseated, easy prey for the Marines gunfire and Farn Courana's lightrifle. Darin had used a few pieces of Marine tech to hack into the bikes' navigation systems, and only a few hours later, they had reached their objective.

But nothing had prepared Anakin for the facility when they finally arrived. He looked at Darin incredulously. "Am I nuts?" he asked. "Is this a normal size for a 'small' materiel factory?"

Darin shook his head. "No, sir. This facility is more than ten times larger than it should be. It's clearly not prefabricated, you can see where the rock's been carved away to support it. This should have taken years to build. But we have reliable intel that the Unity Coalition only _discovered_ this system less than six months ago. This shouldn't be possible."

Anakin looked at the factory complex. A dozen various rectangles and domes had been mashed together into a single massive building; nearby, a small spaceport stretched, with shipping containers stacked by the hundreds. On the far side of the complex, various small vents marked where it continued underground.

"Vorin, can you tell how many are inside?" he asked the older Knight.

Vorin's brow furrowed. "No," he said after a moment. "Skywalker, I don't like the looks of this. I like a good fight more than anyone, but bad intel, the crash... I think it may be a mistake to continue."

Anakin was tempted to agree, but instead buried the thought. "We're here to rescue a pair of Scouts. The Navy can blast this place from orbit, it's big but not _that_ big. We just need to find our brothers, get back here to the bikes, and...and get home," he said, realizing that they still had no reliable way _off_ the planet even if they succeeded.

Darin Antall spoke up. "Sir, I think we should send a team to secure a ship while we look for the prisoners. There are at least two shuttles that could leave the atmosphere, and or view is obstructed by the terrain and the buildings, there might be more that we can't see from here."

Anakin nodded; he had come to rely on the Sergeant's tactical and strategic experience. "Good plan, although I hate to split us up. Anybody want to go?"

Carin Shenal twirled her staff casually as she stepped forward. "I can take my Marines and flank around on the bikes. They're not _completely_ useless, I suppose," she said; she had been the strongest voice against each Jedi being assigned a fireteam, but had grown more and more accepting of the Marines as they had again and again proved their worth against the Unity speeder teams.

Anakin looked to Vorin; he was the senior Knight, but Anakin's fireteam contained the senior Marine; unofficially, they had formed a _de facto _triumvirate, and the others had raised no objection. The Scouts were more than willing to defer to the Knights in matters other than reconnaissance, and the Marines were still mostly in awe of the fabled Jedi warriors. Knights tended to follow whoever gave the first and loudest order; with Vorin unusually quiet, Anakin had found himself taking command.

So Vorin nodded to Anakin, and Anakin nodded to the Scout. "Be careful, Scout," he said, touching the hilt of his saber to his brow in salute.

"Be careful yourself, young Knight," she said as she mounted one of the bikes, her Marines doing the same. "This place is a deathtrap. This entire planet is wrong. Try not to die here."

Then she kicked the bike's accelerator, vanishing in the opposite direction from the spaceport, presumably to circle around from another direction.

Anakin turned his attention back to the complex. "Sergeant Antall, can you see an obvious point of entry?" he asked.

Darin took the macrobinoculars. "No," said, "But I can say it's most likely we'll need to access the underground section if we want to find the prisoners. We can proceed along the outside of the structure, but the open terrain poses a significant risk. Since you carry melee weapons, it seems that the interior would be safer, although we'll still likely encounter heavy resistance."

Vorin grinned at that. "Heavy resistance," Vorin said, igniting his lightmace "Is what _this _is for!"

Anakin was pleased to see the older Knight in better spirits. "Farn, you'd be at a disadvantage in there," he said, turning to the talz. "But if we put you on a nearby hill, could we maintain a link with you through the Force, and allow you to hit targets inside the building?"

The talz shook his massive white-furred head. "No," the translator crackled. "It's an interesting idea, but it would take time to establish such a link. Since no communications equipment survived the crash, I'm useless as a lookout as well. At the risk of being called a coward by you sword-swinging savages," Anakin grinned; the relationship between the Knights and Scouts was always a reflection of their Masters' relationship; for decades now, playful insults had characterized their interactions just as they did between Damun and Klyver, "I think it would be best if I took a bike and my Marines and returned to the crash site; I can at least give a report on what we've found."

Anakin put a hand on the talz's shoulder. "Wisdom, brother, not cowardice. Tell them we're doing what Knights do best, though, would you?"

Farn and his Marines left, their bikes engines a rapidly-receding whine in the thin air.

Vorin swung his mace in anticipation, a burning orange blur surrounded by an odd shimmer in the air; the concentrated power created a concussive field around the mace's head, which Vorin had famously put to great use hunting pirates on the Rim worlds. "Alright," he said, his grin widening. "Now it's just us warriors. No scouts, no flyboys, nothing but fighters. Are we ready to go find our brothers?"

The Marines snapped to attention, and Anakin ignited his blade. "Oh, _now_ you've got something to add, you old goat. How about to drag that paperweight behind me while I lead the way, eh?"

The older Knight roared in laughter, and they began their descent toward the complex; four Jedi and eleven Marines, ready to take on an army.

* * *

><p>Imperator Palpatine was already walking toward them when they began shouting.<p>

"I won't die here unless you promise me!" Damun yelled, his voice hoarse from exhaustion and pain.

"Then _don't die_, you stubborn bastard,"Klyver responded, his voice icy. "You're being ridiculous. You've found religion on your deathbed but you don't even have the decency to _die_."

They had been arguing for hours, and Obi-Wan wished they would stop; he didn't like the others hearing their squabbles, he felt the need for the Jedi's legend to remain strong, especially _here_ where hope was all they had.

He staggered to his feet and intercepted Palpatine before he could reach the two arguing Masters. "They're just bickering, Imperator," he explained. "They've been doing it for fifty years, they'll only drag you into it. There's nothing to be gained from it, you'll only be forced to lose a bit of respect from one of them."

Palpatine nodded, and put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder – and forced him to sit. Barely able to stand in the first place, Obi-Wan could hardly put up a fight. "Rest, Seeker," Palpatine said, passing Obi-Wan a canteen as he knelt beside him. Palpatine looked over at the two bickering Masters. "What are they arguing about?" he asked as Obi-Wan took a drink.

Obi-Wan handed back the canteen. "They're arguing about the Force," he said, reluctantly. The Imperator could walk four feet and hear the whole discussion, so Obi-Wan saw no purpose in trying to hide it. "Some Jedi, mostly the Sages, believe that the Force has two sides, Dark and Light. They believe that positive and negative emotions access these sides respectively. So if you're calm and at peace, you're using the Light side. If you're angry, you're using the Dark side."

Palpatine's eyebrow arched. "And they're having a debate about this, now?" he asked.

Obi-Wan nodded. "They're arguing because Damun believes in the Dark side, and Klyver doesn't. Damun believes that using the Dark side corrupts you, makes you... evil, I guess. It sounds silly, but a lot of Jedi believe it, particularly Master Yoda, Master of Sages. Damun doesn't want his friend to be corrupted by the Dark side, and Klyver thinks it's ridiculous, that the Force is simply the Force, it doesn't care _how_ you access its power. They've been fighting about it for half a century, but never like this. Damun must really think he's going to die here."

Palpatine looked at the two Masters again, and then back at Obi-Wan. "Well, I won't interrupt them if I don't have to. Perhaps _you_ can answer my question."

Obi-Wan blinked. "I'll do my best, Imperator," he said, considering trying to surreptitiously ascertain Palpatine's thoughts; with the war off to such a disastrous start, Obi-Wan decided not to risk the Imperator's trust with such an attempt.

Palpatine smiled that easy smile of his. "Good. Now, the question is about your weapon; the lightsaber. I asked your friend Anakin a little about how they worked, and I'm hoping you can tell me just one more thing..."

* * *

><p>The door fell to a single blow from Vorin's mace; Anakin rolled past the older Knight, coming to his feet with an upward swing that cleaved a guard in two. He used the Force to hurl three more into the wall, knocking their weapons from their hands; the Marines gunned them down before their blasters hit the ground.<p>

No alarms had sounded so far; Anakin had no idea how long it would take for their intrusion to be noticed. He led the way down the corridor to the offices ahead.

Any workers had already been evacuated; the room was _filled _with fully-armored Unity troopers, at least fifty. Parrying the torrent of blaster fire with his saber, Anakin shielded Vorin as they advanced, until they were close enough for Vorin to strike. Lashing out with his mace, he struck one of the Unity troopers in the chest, the impact creating a concussive blast which bowled over a half-dozen others. Dodging blaster fire, Anakin leapt into their ranks, swinging his saber wildly. Behind him, Pale and Lifetaker were shielding the Marines, who were unloading into the massed enemy ranks.

Diving past an enemy trooper, Anakin spun around and lifted him off his feet with the Force. Whipping the suspended trooper through the air, he knocked several others over; sprawled helpless on the floor, they were riddled with blaster fire by the advancing Marines.

Anakin felt a twinge of guilt, but suppressed it; this was war, not playtime. There was no prize for fair play. The black-visored helmets of his enemies helped; he could imagine they were simply mechanical appendages of a vast, monstrous enemy.

Vorin's mace swung left and right, smashing his enemies' armor into shrapnel, earning his name all over again. Woran and Shari brought up the rear, stabbing and slicing. And he rolled forward, using the Force to trip his enemies, to pull them into his blade, and to confuse their thoughts, giving him the time he needed to close the distance and attack.

The next room was empty, but the alarms had sounded. "We need to find someone who can tell us where the prisoners are," Darin shouted. Anakin waited as Vorin smashed the next door, sending the solid metal sheet flying into the next room, bashing into the waiting enemy soldiers.

This room seemed to be some sort of assembly plant; it contained another hundred troops, many positioned above on catwalks, or perched on crossbeams near the ceiling. As blaster bolts rained down on him, Anakin found himself barely able to dodge and deflect the sheer volume of fire. Seeing a nearby chemical tank, he dove behind it for a moment's cover, to try to plan his next move.

Vorin was not so lucky; he charged through the door and was shot by a dozen blasters before he could raise his mace.

* * *

><p>Darin saw the burly, heavily-armored Jedi fall, and froze for a moment in shock. He had never imagined that any of the Jedi would die. They were <em>invincible<em> in the stories, casually deflecting enemy fire and mowing down their foes with ease.

But the shock only lasted a moment. Anyone could die. Vorin had killed hundreds of his enemies. Darin could only hope to do as much for his Republic. He rushed in, diving into cover, laying down covering fire with Anton's heavy assault blaster; Anton had never made it out of the first room.

The other three Jedi entered, their blades thrumming as they deflected the incoming storm of fire. Darin used the distraction to pick off three of the snipers in the crossbeams, but he was quickly pinned down; but this in turn allowed the Jedi to move forward, and soon they were amidst the enemy again, and their blades carved a path of deadly light through the black-armored Unity troops.

Anakin was still staring at Vorin's body; Darin ran over to his location, the enemy troops too busy trying to stop Shari and Woran's advance. "Sir, you need to move!" he shouted, signaling his Marines to enter; only six of them had made it this far, and Darin was determined that they would lose no more.

The Marines took one knee and aimed their rifles, picking off the Unity troopers who managed to avoid the Jedi's twirling blades. Anakin looked at Darin and nodded, silently, and charged around the corner into the fray. Carefully avoiding friendly fire, Darin poured blaster fire into the enemy ranks, mowing down his distracted foes with little difficulty.

Nothing about this mission had made any sense. There was no reason for there to be such a huge contingent of combat troops here, even at this strange hidden factory, even one this size. But for combat troops, they were incredibly poorly trained. He had fought Unity soldiers on Telarus; they had been formidable adversaries, using effective tactics and adequate marksmanship.

These troops were fighting like children playing at war; they used the building's layout to their advantage, but their aim was frighteningly poor, and their 'tactics' practically nonexistent. But there were simply so many of them, it was almost irrelevant; Darin had lost another Marine already.

But then Anakin reached the enemy, and Darin saw where the legends had been born; not out of awe, but out of fear.

He moved with a speed that no normal human could possess. His blade was in one hand, spinning to and fro, taking a limb or a life with each arc. His other hand served to focus his rage; at a twist of his fingers, an enemy trooper's neck snapped sickeningly, his head twisted to face his own back. With a clenched fist, Anakin crushed the helmet of another trooper, leaving him clutching at the bloody mess of his own armor digging into his face; the lightsaber blade descended to end the trooper's suffering as Anakin stepped over him to his next target.

Darin fired a quick burst to fell an enemy approaching from behind Anakin, fired again and again to protect the other advancing Jedi. Anakin continued unabated; more troops were storming in through side entrances, and Darin was overheating the heavy repeater and still not stemming the tide fast enough.

There was a flash of pink, and a scream; Sanhes Pale had fallen, and Shari Lifetaker had grabbed his saber, but although the multitude of blades she now held was intimidating, it was also impractical; she was felled in seconds.

Only Woran Firebreather and Anakin Skywalker remained; Darin looked behind him to see only Jens still standing, and as Darin watched, his face vanished in a flash of orange blaster fire.

Darin moved forward, frantically reaching for a fragmentation grenade and tossing it at the side door where another wave of Unity troops had begun entering. "Anakin!" he shouted, firing desperately.

Anakin waved his arm, snapping the legs of an enemy squad backward with a _crunching_ sound. Woran stood with him now, back-to-back, their sabers flashing to deflect incoming fire, their hands reaching and flicking, each gesture accompanied by the _crack_ of bone or the _thud_ of an enemy hitting the floor, apparently untouched but deathly still; Darin guessed that Anakin had stopped trying for large external trauma and begun focusing on internal damage.

Something nagged at the back of Darin's mind; he had seen something and not registered it, but it had been important. He tried to think what it might be as he slipped in between the two Jedi, their swirling blades now defending him as well.

Woran clutched his side as a blaster bolt burned through his armor; his reactions slowed just enough, and a volley of fire brought him down. Darin tapped Anakin on the shoulder and pointed at a nearby wall; Anakin seemed to understand. He ran forward, slicing a makeshift doorway with his lightsaber.

They burst through into a space between walls; they had only seconds before the Unity troops followed. Darin thought for a moment to regain his bearings, and pointed. "Spaceport!" he shouted, and Anakin carved another doorway.

The room they were in was a foundry of some kind; molten metal poured everywhere Darin looked, the heat pounding into him. Anakin held up a hand and Darin felt cold air from the crawlspace behind them rush forward, shielding him from the heat for a moment with each gust. They ran across the room, Darin pausing to fire at the troops who were attempting to follow.

Anakin kicked open a door, leading to a smaller office, again abandoned. Anakin paused, and Darin covered the door, his heart in his throat. What was the Jedi waiting for?

Anakin pointed, somewhere toward the structure's interior. "They're _here_, Antall, they're alive. I can _feel _them through the Force. We need to reach them, this mission, Vorin, the others..."

Darin grabbed the Jedi's shoulder. "Anakin, we have to _go_. The two of us can't cut through that many of them! The 2nd Legion _isn't coming_, and if they do, we _still_ couldn't fight our way through _half_ this number, not on our own. There's no honor in a pointless death, Jedi."

Anakin said nothing, but faced the direction they had been running so far, swung his blade and kicked, making another makeshift door; the edges were red-hot, and Darin was careful to avoid them. They could hear the troops following them, but the small openings Anakin made were slowing down pursuit considerably. Darin turned a ring on the last of his fragmentation grenades, setting a short timer, hoping to catch a few of their pursuers unawares.

"Come on!" Anakin shouted, having already made another hole. Darin pointed to the grenade, and Anakin looked around for a moment. "Go through," he ordered, and Darin passed into the next room, a storeroom filled with shelves containing small boxes of tiny parts. Anakin raised one hand, and Darin heard a shriek of metal as the room they had left collapsed.

"Good thinking, Sergeant," Anakin said as they moved more slowly through the storeroom, catching their breath.

Darin said nothing, thinking about his Marines, and the fallen Jedi. Suddenly, he remembered the strange nagging feeling. He still couldn't pin it down, but... "Anakin..." he said, thinking.

"Yes?" Anakin ignited his saber, lighting their way through the blackness.

"These troopers... do they seem strange to you? In this... Force... of yours, is there anything wrong with them?"

Anakin looked thoughtful. "Yes," Anakin answered after a moment. "I can't say what, but something's not right. And I've never seen anyone fight so poorly. There are too many for us to win, but these are conscripts, or something. Almost completely untrained."

Darin nodded. "I agree about the training. But something else isn't right. They coordinate well; they fire in waves, they advance in unison. Those ships that destroyed the _Unbound_, they worked on the same principle; they were extremely coordinated, but they didn't really display any piloting _skill_."

Anakin began cutting through the next wall; Darin could see sunlight coming from where the blade had pierced through; this was their final door. "Do you think those might have been droids?" Anakin asked as he pushed the saber through the wall. Darin had seen that the blade could be slowed by thick materials; presumably, something hard enough could actually even stop it.

But Darin shook his head. "No, not droids. Well not down here obviously. But it's the same behavior for both, so there's no reason it should have two _different_ causes."

Anakin was finishing the cut. "This stuff... it's not a material I've ever encountered before. If we don't both make it, make sure you tell someone. This stuff is _old_, and stronger than anything I've ever seen outside the Academy. I don't think they _built_ this place, I think they _found it._ And speaking of the Academy, you're starting to sound like a _Scholar _with all this talk about causes and such. We'll make our report if we live, and hopefully someone who thinks for a living can figure it out."

Darin could see no reason to argue with _that_ sentiment. He checked the heavy repeater and saw that it was almost completely depleted. "I'm almost out of ammo," he told the Jedi. "I'm not going to stop to fire unless there's no other option. My entire focus will be on reaching the ship; can you point me toward it?"

"Just follow me," Anakin said, "She won't be hard to find once we're out there."

The wall toppled outward, and the Jedi and the Marine charged out into the fading sunlight.

* * *

><p>The machine was almost ready. Klyver had been the only one who could master it; Obi-Wan had explained the principle, but his own mastery of the Force, while subtle, was nowhere near precise enough for this.<p>

Klyver flexed his grip. "Imperator, I must admit I'm impressed," he said, for once without even a hint of sarcasm. "This would never have occurred to _any_ of us, not in a hundred years."

Palpatine smiled that casual smile of his. "Well, fresh eyes can see wonderful things, Seeker. And hopefully soon-"

The first drop pod _hit_ less than fifty yards away, shaking the stone and deck plating beneath their feet. As the first black-visored troops leapt out, Palpatine was already firing his rifle.

* * *

><p>The first drop pod Anakin saw was already open, and he had hoped for a single moment that these were Republic reinforcements. But then black-armored Unity troops had jumped out; not as many as he had feared, however. It seemed the stone surface was as unyielding to the descending pods as it had been to the crashing speeders, and the troops who emerged were visibly shaken; several more pods came down, some at angles which crushed their troop compartments entirely, others well enough to preserve at least some of their passengers.<p>

Anakin remembered what Darin had said, and focused on his legs; he could have moved faster using the Force to propel his movements, but he had lost too many people already, he _would not_ lose Antall as well.

Side-by-side, they ran toward Carin's commandeered shuttle; gawky and triangular, it looked like some kind of nesting bird. Her Marines knelt on either side of the boarding ramp, blasters lashing fire at the disoriented drop troopers pouring onto the field.

Carin herself was visible in the cockpit, her face grim as she saw how badly Anakin had failed in his mission. Anakin felt a searing burst of shame as he sprinted harder toward the ramp-

The drop pod _smashed_ into the shuttle, obliterating it completely; one Marine was crushed instantly, the other flung away, a metal shard protruding from her shoulder. Anakin swung his blade, using the Force to blunt its cutting edge, giving it the same shimmer as Vorin's mace had once possessed; he deflected the foot-long scrap of hull plating that had been flying toward Darin.

The Marine gave a look of thanks, but began running toward his fallen comrade. Anakin cursed under his breath, but knew he would have done the same if it had been another Jedi lying there.

Swinging wildly to deflect the incoming fire, Anakin knelt as Darin slung the wounded Marine over his shoulder. Standing, he staggered toward the next visible shuttle damaged but apparently intact.

They were moving too _slow_, Anakin realized as the volume of fire increased. He reached out with the Force and _shoved_, sending Darin and the other Marine hurtling behind a pair of shipping containers; he could hear a sickening crack as Darin hit, but Anakin knew the Marine would prefer the injury to his own death and that of his wounded companion. Now free to run as fast as the Force could take him, he bounded into the second shuttle, his awareness extending outward, steadying the craft as he skipped its usual preflight warmup, lifting it with cold thrusters.

He hovered for only a moment over Antall, but he knew the Marine needed nothing more; he and his unconscious companion were aboard before Anakin had even slowed to a stop.

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan tried to block out the pain in he leg as he stood, saber in hand, its red blade flashing. Palpatine knelt nearby, his rifle spitting fire, each shot felling another of the incoming troopers.<p>

But Obi-Wan could feel something far worse than the pain; there was a _strangeness_ about his opponents, something that was fundamentally _wrong_ when he touched their minds with the Force.

But that wrongness seemed to also provide an advantage; he found himself able to slip more easily into the minds of these troopers than ever before; he had caused more casualties through friendly fire than through his feeble, injured attempts at swordplay.

Klyver, on the other hand, was a blur; he moved like a dancer, and his dance was _death_. Bodies flew into the air wherever he went, and he was too fast to be hit by even the finest marksman – and these troops could barely aim their weapons at Obi-Wan, who was _standing still_.

But there was no escape. Obi-Wan knew they were merely delaying the inevitable, knew he should try to surrender rather than die pointlessly... but he couldn't bring himself to be the first to do so. He knew it was merely foolish pride, and he hated himself for it, but nevertheless: he fought on, Damun unconscious again, his life fading fast.

But then, hope appeared on the horizon.

* * *

><p>Darin clung to an overhead cargo strap; the other Marine, Sila Parino, was safely strapped into a seat nearby, her vitals steady. He winced with each breath as the pain from his broken ribs arched through him; but he was elated to be alive, adrenaline coursing through him.<p>

Below, the ground sped by, a mottled red blur. Drop pods were coming down overhead, and the occasional green blast of turbolaser fire – clearly, someone in orbit had noticed them. He moved forward into the cockpit, where Anakin sat in intense concentration. The ship's artificial gravity seemed to be fluctuating; Darin wondered if this was the result of the damage from the other shuttle's explosion.

Anakin seemed like a man possessed; his eyes were fixed ahead, his hands hovering above the controls; he touched nothing, the Force moving the control wheel, pedals, and dials. Ahead, Darin could see the crash site, already besieged. He thought carefully before saying anything, concerned that he might disrupt the Jedi's concentration; he decided he needed to know at least one thing.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

Anakin looked up at him, as if startled to find he was not alone in the cockpit. Then he grinned, and Darin Antall felt a chill in his spine, felt the legend of the Jedi unfolding in front of him. "I need you to do what you do best, friend," he said, and turned back to the viewport. "I need you to kill anything that wants us dead."

Suddenly Darin saw movement; he pointed, and Anakin followed. Three speeder bikes shot across the smooth, lined red rock; the leader was a white-furred creature with a large head, and a strange, ornate rifle slung across his back.

Anakin hit the airbrakes, jolting Darin forward. "Hold onto something," Anakin shouted as the ramp opened, the noise of the rushing air nearly overpowering the words, "But don't get too comfortable, I'm going to need you when we reach the others!"

The shuttle descended, until it was flying alongside the bikes; Anakin's forehead was covered in sweat as his eyes met Farn Courana's, and he accelerated for just a moment – and Darin's jaw dropped as he watched out the rear-facing ramp.

Mere inches above the ground, the Jedi maneuvered the shuttle in front of the talz and his Marines; and then he _decelerated, _the bikes smoothly scooped by the ramp. Farn and the Marines dove off into the shuttle just as the bikes' repulsorlift systems interacted with the ship's own and twisted away, flung out the back to smash into the rock below.

Darin looked back at the Jedi in the cockpit, and knew now why he had been named Skywalker.

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan saw the shuttle approaching, and knew that Anakin was piloting it; it was like watching a bird in flight, a picture of graceful perfection as it twisted and rolled past enemy fire from above and below.<p>

A near-miss as the shuttle roared overhead, and suddenly Darin Antall was beside Obi-Wan, his face pale but determined. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," the Marine shouted, "We must gather the wounded and prepare for extraction!"

"You don't have to tell me twice!" Obi-Wan yelled back over the deafening noise of blaster fire mixed with the shuttle's engines; Anakin swept low again, _running down_ a group of Unity troopers. "But _I'm_ one of the wounded, remember? Someone needs to grab Damun!"

Obi-Wan reached out to Klyver's mind, a point of bright light among the strangeness of the enemy. He placed the thought there: _must return to Damun_. It wasn't easy; the mind of the Master of Scouts was well-shielded. But Obi-Wan managed to worm his way through, and he could _feel _Klyver's surprise at the sensation of another mind meddling in his own.

Once the message had been planted, however, Obi-Wan could feel the older Jedi's understanding. Leaping and flipping like a gymnast, his staff swinging through the air, dismembering Unity troopers in every direction, the cathar made his way back toward the shattered remnants of the _Unbound_'s bridge.

Eventually he stood side-by-side with Obi-Wan. "What now, Trickster?" he asked, his staff twirling to block another volley of fire.

Obi-Wan pointed to Darin. "Ask him!" he shouted, finally collapsing from the pain.

The next few seconds unfolded in agonizing slow-motion, Obi-Wan's awareness stretched by pain and panic. The shuttle hovered overhead, ramp extended; Palpatine and the crew were already aboard, scooped up violently in a previous pass. Then the Imperator _jumped out_, landing almost on top of Obi-Wan; he grabbed the fallen Jedi and slung him over his shoulder, Obi-Wan's face mashed against the shredded gold braid. Palpatine reached up and _tossed_ Obi-Wan into the shuttle, the pain in his leg unimaginable. Klyver landed beside him, Damun over his shoulder. Now only the Marine and the Imperator remained below, prone, unable to move, surrounded by enemies, under constant fire...

* * *

><p>Darin pressed himself farther into the ground, a stray blaster bolt nicking the top of the wreckage that shielded him. Their tiny firing position was nearly overrun, and Darin looked over at his Imperator, who gave him a grim smile and continued firing over the mound of wreckage they hid behind.<p>

Then suddenly his stomach _lurched_; he was _falling _into the air, slamming into something hard and metal, the ground stretching terrifyingly above him...

He remembered the gravity fluctuations aboard the shuttle. Crawling on his hands and knees, dragging the even more confused Imperator behind him, Darin reached the raised slope of the entry ramp; crawling around it, he managed to twist his body inside, then grasp the Imperator's hand and pull him inside.

Aboard the shuttle, the dozen bridge crew, two Marines, and the Jedi lay sprawled on the ceiling; only the wounded Parino, strapped into her seat, and Anakin, strapped into the pilot's chair, remained correctly oriented.

The next drop was short but painful; he found himself buried under the talz's fur, his cracked ribs screaming in pain until the Jedi managed to wriggle off of him.

Obi-Wan raised his head weakly as the ramp closed, and Darin saw his eyes unfocus...

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan knew he only had a moment; he reached out through the Force, sensing the gathered Unity troopers below. The impulse was simple, but he needed to send it to as many as he could, although the sensation in the pit of his stomach told him he would only need a few...<p>

On the surface, as if suddenly compelled, thirty of the Unity troopers paused in their futile attempts to fire at the retreating shuttle. They stood motionless for a moment, before a single impulse overcame them.

As one, they reached up, and removed their helmets, scanning each others faces, unable to sense the other, more distant set of eyes that watched _through_ them as they turned and looked at their brethren.

Each saw a sea of thirty faces, clean-shaven and soaked in sweat.

And each perfectly identical to the others.


	12. Notes for Chapter 6

It was a challenge deciding how long to hold off on the reveal, and how much stake to put in it when the answer is probably immediately obvious to the majority of readers.

Also, I realized while writing the PREVIOUS chapter that I actually hadn't done even a single Obi-Wan-perspective bit yet, so now seemed like a good time to start.

But as a shitty movie would say at this point: "Begun, the Clone War...has."

The temptation to do a joke on the equally terrible "Aroud the survivors a perimeter create!" was pretty strong, but I decided I didn't want to ruin the mood.

Describing Jedi fighting was also a challenge: I wanted to really explore what limited telekinesis would MEAN in a real battle, and how terrifying a Jedi would be if he was genuinely trying to kill his enemies.

But anyhoo, thanks for reading! More to come, obviously. Please review! It makes me sad when someone favorites but doesn't review!

Talky bits coming up next time, but the war is on - the pace is picking up, although it's got a looong way to build yet.

For those who might be worried: there is a firm plan; while obviously there will be changes as I go along, I have outlined the story and characters all the way from the first chapter up to the beginning of the Original Trilogy. Everything WILL make sense, no matter how strange it might seem right now.

Fun Final Fact: for secondary characters who aren't intended to live past the end of a chapter or two, I don't bother adding their names to the spellcheck; thus, the doomed have a little zig-zaggy red underline beneath their names every time they're mentioned as I proofread; their own little red shirts, if you will. 


	13. Chapter 7: Ripples in the Wake

Chapter 7: Ripples in the Wake

Anakin felt his weight shift from his shoulder straps to his seat again as he reconfigured the electronics with the Force; the shuttle had no way to _reverse_ its gravity field on its own, so Anakin had improvised. Each wire was a blazing trail of fire in his mind, suspended in a vast matrix of components that comprised the shuttle.

The shuttle bucked and heaved as it left the atmosphere, emerald lances of turbolaser fire flashing all around them. The sky folded around the cockpit until the ship was swallowed by stars, and fire blossomed in every direction as the space battle raged on. A quick check of his transponder data revealed grim news: the Third Fleet had been all but destroyed. Reinforcements had arrived from the Fourth, but they were busy destroying Unity hyperspace inhibitor ships to allow their brethren to retreat. Finding a ship that Anakin could reach in time, and a crew he could convince that the Unity shuttle he was piloting carried _the Imperator himself_ might be a tall order...

* * *

><p><em>In a thousand years, no Jedi had ever conceived of the idea. <em>Palpatine considered this fact as he looked out the viewport from behind Anakin. He felt his hands shaking, fought to steady them. He was young, for an Imperator, but he had seen his share of battles; but nothing quite like this young Anakin Skywalker's brand of rescue.

When the question had been posed to Obi-Wan Kenobi, Palpatine had been sure he detected more than a hint of suspicion in the man's voice, even despite his obvious cunning. _They think in terms of secrecy and tradition, even the smart ones, _Palpatine realized. He had worked with Jedi before, but never on this scale, and he was learning more and more about them with each interaction.

They could kill like nothing Palpatine had ever seen, that much was clear; the legends had failed to capture the brutality of their techniques, but had not exaggerated their effectiveness. But every time Palpatine opened his eyes to the Jedi, he saw more and more which concerned him.

Palpatine tapped Anakin on the shoulder and pointed to a shape in the distance. "Young Seeker," he said to the Jedi, whose focus seemed so total Palpatine wondered if he even heard the words, "If my reckoning is right, that ship should be the _Steadfast_. They should be expecting me; I sent them my personal code and told them to use it to unlock my biometric data. They'll send armed droids to meet us in case of treachery, but a scan should prove that I'm myself."

Anakin looked back, and Palpatine saw confusion shatter the boy's mask of concentration.

_In a thousand years, no Jedi had ever conceived of the idea. _"I'm no Seeker," Palpatine said, laughing a little, "But what you told me about your weapon after Sergeant Antall tried to use it got me thinking. So I had your Master Klyver direct the energy from his weapon into the communication systems from the _Unbound_. I manage to contact the _Steadfast_ before we were attacked."

Anakin nodded. "Makes sense. An excellent plan, Imperator."

Palpatine raised an eyebrow, impressed. Obi-Wan had been speechless, and doubtful that it was possible. Klyver had seemed _offended_ by the idea, but Obi-Wan had convinced him to try it anyway; the Master had come around eventually, but his initial reaction had been fear and suspicion_._ _They spend too much time floating among the clouds, _Palpatine thought, with a flicker of sadness. But Anakin, at least, had merely nodded, as if the idea had perhaps occurred to him earlier; _Maybe not _all_ of them are quite so closed-minded_. And he considered how difficult it must have been to reconfigure the gravity of an unfamiliar vessel while piloting it _in combat_.

"Thank you, young Seeker," he replied, patting Anakin's shoulder. "But if you hadn't arrived when you did, that could well have been my _very sarcastic _eulogy. Power down all weapons and shields as we approach – we're going to have some convincing to do..."

* * *

><p>The parade field was covered in ten thousand ghosts. Sergeant Darin Antall looked out at them, trying to comprehend the enormity of their failure. The Jedi had sent a contingent, which included Anakin, Obi-Wan, Farn, and Master Klyver; Master Damun was apparently still in critical condition.<p>

Darin's ribs had been healed easily enough; but his faith had been deeply shaken. He had watched five Jedi _die_ on the field of battle, watched too many of his own Marines suffer the same fate.

He did not hear the words the Imperator spoke, and could not feel the Coruscant sun beating down on him. He faced left when the command was given, saluted when the command was given. But he saw nothing, heard nothing.

Except for ten thousand ghosts.

Each Republic spacer or Marine was imaged upon graduating from fleet basic, or boot camp, or officer training. Ten thousand holophotos taken in ten thousand moments of joy and triumph and pride. Thousands of laughing smiles from the officers and spacers, thousands of stern but proud glares from the Marines.

But now each smile was made a mockery by the weeping families that stood alongside the holograms, each proud glare turned to ash by the loss in a loved one's eyes.

Darin Antall left the parade grounds wearing a small piece of metal that was intended to commemorate his bravery. His fellow Marines were all still hospitalized, present only as their own ghosts, blue and transparent and yet another mockery, Darin felt, to the thronging, beaming dead.

Darin received the command to fall out, and stood for another hour after everyone had left, until a technician somewhere turned off the projectors, and ten thousand ghosts flickered and went to their rest.

* * *

><p>"<em>Disaster<em> doesn't quite seem to cover it," Obi-Wan said quietly as he and Anakin left the memorial ceremony. "The Third Fleet almost wiped out, the Fifth Expeditionary Legion dead on their ships. And Master Vorin, and Sanhes, and Shari, and Woran, and Master Carin. Jedi who might have lived centuries, all dead."

Anakin's fists clenched when Obi-Wan listed the names, and he realized he had been careless. "Sorry, friend," he said, helplessly. He could think of nothing to say, and he knew his brother would not be pleased with what was about to happen.

The took a Jedi shuttle back to the Academy, where Masters Klyver, Soris, and Yoda awaited at the landing pad. Anakin and Obi-Wan disembarked and bowed.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Anakin blurted, to Obi-Wan's surprise. "I couldn't.. they're all dead and it's-"

"Alive you are," Master Yoda the Wise said, no hint of emotion in his bulging eyes. "And much to tell us you still have."

Anakin remained silent as they walked to the Silent Chamber, deep in the inner workings of the ancient and inexplicable engines which kept the Academy afloat. It was where the Masters went for private conference; Obi-Wan wondered how often the Rite of Judgment had been invoked in this tiny grey, windowless room.

The Masters sat cross-legged on the floor, and Obi-Wan and Anakin followed suit.

Master Soris the Wild spoke first. "So tell us, Knights; what happened on Crucis IV?"

Between the two of them, they each told their own side of the story, and although Anakin's was more involved, it was Obi-Wan's tale which caught their attention.

"You used it as a _power source?_" Soris said, a smile playing across his face for barely an instant. "That certainly _is_ ingenious."

Yoda made an angry _hmmph_ noise in his tiny throat. "_BLASPHEMY_, it was, for you to reveal the workings of the weapon, much less to use its light to power a _machine!_ A grave mistake, this was."

Klyver waved his hand dismissively. "It was a temporary measure. Palpatine learned nothing about how the weapon works, nothing of the Rites. You cling to this secret as if it mattered somehow; and that attitude would have cost us our lives if Palpatine had not been present to shatter our foolish old ways of thinking."

Obi-Wan could see Anakin nodding. _Now or never,_ he thought, and cleared his throat.

"Masters," he said, "Just before we left the planet..."

And he told them what he had seen: thirty faces looking at thirty faces, and each and every one of them _the same face_.

Yoda and Soris looked at one another, a flash of alarm on their faces; it was gone in an instant, and then both feigned surprise, and Obi-Wan silently resolved to investigate that reaction later.

Klyver looked thoughtful. "I suppose that would explain the frankly ridiculous number of ships we saw. Did you tell this to the Imperator?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, avoiding Anakin's eyes. "No, Masters. I said nothing."

Anakin leapt to his feet. "_What?_" he demanded.

Klyver held out a calming hand. "Anakin, be seated. Obi-Wan, I can see you reasoning but-"

Yoda cut him off. "But _nothing!_ The correct choice, young Obi-Wan made. Trust this Imperator, we cannot."

Anakin sat back down, glaring at Obi-Wan.

Soris, for his part, barely reacted at all. "It harms no-one to stay silent," he said with a small shrug, "And let wiser heads decide – the battle was not won or lost for lack of this strange fact. On the other hand, now we must conceal the source of our information when we _do_ tell the Imperator."

Another quick glance between Soris and Yoda, then the Master of Scholars went on. "Return to your Hall," he ordered, rising. "We must discuss this further. Continue your silence as to the unnatural nature of our foe's forces."

Obi-Wan stood and bowed, and began making his way back to the Hall – behind Anakin, who said nothing to him until they had arrived.

"Trickster, I overestimated you," Anakin said, his voice strained. "I hadn't figured you for a traitor."

Obi-Wan stopped, grabbing Anakin's shoulder and spinning the younger man to face him. "Anakin, I know the Imperator impressed you, but you need to remember this: _we are not his soldiers_. We are Jedi Knights, and we follow our _own_ path. And no-one in the Republic, not mighty Imperator, nor lowly servitor, can command us."

Anakin tossed Obi-Wan's hand aside and dropped into a fighting stance; before Obi-Wan could react, Anakin swept his feet out from under him.

He hit the smooth stone floor and rolled, springing back to his feet, but Anakin struck again, this time with his fist. Obi-Wan parried the blow but Anakin deftly avoided his counter.

"A _thousand generations_ we've served the Republic," Anakin said as Obi-Wan let his own awareness in Force expand outward, clouding Anakin's ability to anticipate. "We're _not _its masters, we're its _protectors_. Do you really think we're _better _than them just because we're up _here_ and they're down _there?"_

Obi-Wan _pushed_ Anakin from behind with the Force, and managed to connect his elbow with his opponent's head. Anakin spun away, shaking off the blow. "'A thousand generations' my ass," Obi-Wan said. "Do you have any idea how _long _that would be? I'm disappointed that you'd believe such a ridiculous part of our _own legend_." He landed a firm blow on Anakin's midsection, using the Force to keep the younger Jedi slightly off-balance.

"We _are_ above them, Anakin," he explained, trying to reach his friend past the anger. "We can't afford to be beholden to them. We and we alone have been chosen to wield the power of the Force. We have to trust our own feelings, not simply obey the whims of whomever happens to win a... a _popularity contest_. We _defend _the Republic; which means that we _are not_ a part of it."

"Semantics," Anakin retorted, reaching out one hand, his fingers curled; and Obi-Wan suddenly felt his friend's _presence_ change. All of his influence on the Force was suddenly stifled, and he felt his feet leave the ground. There was a sudden sense of pressure around his neck; and it began to _tighten_. "We're supposed to be _helping_ them, not _hiding _things from them!"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan croaked, "We're not going to hide anything! I simply left the decision to _our_ superiors. Respect _our_ chain of command!"

Anakin released his grip, and Obi-Wan fell to the ground, clutching his throat; he had never seen another Knight use the Force in a friendly bout, and after Anakin's experience on Crucis IV, Obi-Wan realized that the boy was likely far from completely stable.

And indeed, Anakin had sunk to his knees, eyes vacant. "All dead," he said, his voice hollow. "Those Marines respect _our_ chain of command, and died. Those Jedi respected _our _ways and followed the first voice to give the order, _my _voice, and they died too."

Obi-Wan pulled himself closer to his friend. "But we were there because the _Imperator _and his _fleet _brought us along. This was _their _mission!"

"Their mission?" Anakin said, and laughed bitterly. "We were _supposed_ to be rescuing _two of our own_."

Obi-Wan's answer died in his throat. He sat in front of Anakin, and for the second time today, he could not meet his friend's gaze. "You're... you're right," he said, finally. And then he reached out, and embraced his comrade. "_But that doesn't make it your fault._"

Obi-Wan felt Anakin return the embrace, then let go. "Next time," Anakin said, his voice breaking slightly "Could you at least tell _me?_"

Obi-Wan nodded and hugged the young man again – he couldn't bring himself to speak the lie aloud.

* * *

><p>Imperator Palpatine reviewed the report from Soris, Jedi Master of Scholars.<p>

_Clones_.

Everything snapped into place as he read the word – similar neural patterns allowing for easy coordination, limited training time, vast numbers. The answer fit perfectly, but it contained its own set of questions. Where had they come from? How long had they been creating this army? Why attack now?

Palpatine looked over his desk at the contents of the Unity Coalition message pod that had emerged from hyperspace above Coruscant earlier that morning.

The eyes of the two Jedi Scouts gazed back at him, dull and lifeless.

_Wherever and however_, Palpatine swore, _I will see it burn before this ends._


	14. Notes for Chapter 7

Even less to say here: this one's a bit of an "Aftermath" chapter.

I'm excited to establish these characters a bit more firmly, mostly because they have so many changes ahead!

A note on Anakin and Obi-Wan: as the great Plinkett Review made note of, having Anakin be an asshole from the start of the story manages to be both stupid AND boring. There are plent yof ways that Anakin and Obi-Wan can DISAGREE that don't devolve into outright hostility like in the Lucas prequels.

It's just plain backwards: you KNOW he's gonna be Darth Vader, so you immediately start 'foreshadowing' that. But that's childish. For his 'death' to MEAN something, Anakin must be a person there whose loss IS a tragedy. For their friendship to be destroyed, they have to BE good friends.

And when you know how your characters turn out AFTER a huge, *life-changing* event, you should make sure they begin differently than they end up.

But some things, at least, are constant. Whatever his goal or cause or purpose, Obi-Wan is - and always has been - a *liar*. 


	15. Chapter 8: Reveille

Chapter 8: Reveille

Obi-Wan awoke, bleary eyed, to a knock at the door.

He hauled himself out of bed and showered quickly, then hopped out and pulled on a pair of light training pants. He grabbed a small fruit from the stasis bin and stuffed it into his mouth before hurrying out the door.

The hallway was brightly lit with harsh white light, and filled with his fellow Knights, running and jostling their way toward the hall. A hand slapped his back, hard enough to make Obi-Wan wince from the sting, and a voice called out: "Move it, Trickster!"

Trying to ignore the lingering pain, Obi-Wan picked up his pace, breaking into a jog and elbowing his way past a few other Knights. He jostled his way through the crowd at the entrance to the Hall, and emerged, already sweating slightly.

The Hall was filled with not only Knights, but Scouts and more than a few Scholars, as well as the occasional Sage who had decided to risk the ire of Master Yoda and attend.

In the center, Master Damun the Strong stood atop the statue of Beren the Conqueror, doing handstand-push-ups, his balance maintained by the Force. "_**KNIGHTS!**_"he bellowed, not even pausing in his exercises, "Good morning! And to all others who have joined us, we are honored by your commitment. Now, form your groups..."

It was the same greeting as every morning. Obi-Wan, like each other Jedi in the Hall, moved toward a cluster of others; there were nearly a thousand of them, divided into groups of roughly sixty each, the Scholars, Scouts and Sages distributed as evenly among them as possible. Each group moved to a station, where a Knight Master led the group in exercises, from calisthenics push-ups to flutter-kicks – these last, Obi-Wan despised more utterly than he had despised anything else in his life. But he had to admit, his physique had improved, as had his focus; each Master not only led the exercises, but also used the Force to _actively resist _the Jedi's movements, forcing each of them to overcome not only the physical strain, but hone their ability with the Force to reinforce their movements. From his perch on Beren's shoulder, Damun would look for the Jedi he saw who appeared to be struggling the least, and add two hundred pounds of pressure against his limbs. Master Klyver, meanwhile, stalked between the groups, striking with his staff at any student that did not detect his approach; Obi-Wan had learned to be alert to even the near-silence of the cathar's footsteps, and that amidst the chaos of a thousand Jedi Knights.

For two months, they had trained like this, every morning for three hours. Then after breakfast, the Knights and Scouts would go to combat training while the Scholars studied and the Sages meditated until midday, when after a second meal, each training Jedi returned to the Hall for more personalized weapons training, attempting to group those with similar weapons and styles; although twice per week, every group met instead with Master Cari Ironfist to practice unarmed combat, in case their weapons were destroyed or lost or simply momentarily unreachable.

Obi-Wan's group was mostly comprised of Scholars and Scouts; most Sages preferred the 'purity' of simple melee weapons, or battled using the Force alone.

Obi-wan had tried several groups before eventually asking Master Damun to find him something more suitable; Damun had laughed and revealed that several other Jedi had found themselves likewise unfulfilled, and that he had already made arrangements for a less orthodox group.

And so Obi-Wan learned that he was not the only Jedi who preferred to fight with wits and his cunning rather than blade and staff; he recognized the talz Farn Courana, but not the other seven Jedi. Three were Scholars, three were Scouts, and one other was a Knight – Obi-Wan had been surprised to see her there, and felt a pang of regret over his status as an outsider among his own Order.

But even more surprising was their teacher, their instructor in the ways of war: Master Soris the Bold.

Anakin had been chosen to train with Master Damun himself, an honor envied by his fellow knights. But Obi-Wan pitied him, as he did every other Jedi who did not study war from the almost nine-hundred-year-old Master of Scholars... for the first week, at least.

"You must strike swiftly," Soris commanded, his staff – not a Scout's fighting staff but a simple polished wooden stick the old man used as a cane – striking hard against Obi-Wan's fingers. Obi-Wan tried not to show his pain, but he flexed his fingers and cursed silently. Across from him sat his opponent, Gohn Derro, Jedi Scholar. Derro was a duros, a blue-skinned people with bulbous heads and huge red eyes. As the wielding of a Jedi weapon was an art that required years of training and constant practice, many Scholars used more mundane weapons; Gohn preferred using explosives to end a fight before it began, but failing that he would gladly use a blaster to finish one quickly.

A blue-skinned, long-fingered hand reached out, and pressed a control; Obi-Wan could only watch helplessly...

As a tiny yellow holographic monster clubbed a red-armored warrior over the head, and the warrior flickered and vanished from the board. "Dammit!" Obi-Wan spat, slapping the table in frustration.

Soris's staff cracked across the back of Obi-Wan's head. "You were foolish to overextend yourself like that. Derro's piece is now defenseless, exhausted – yet where are your own forces, to press the advantage?"

Obi-Wan glared sullenly at the duros, knowing quite well that his other forces were spread across the board, none of them within striking range of Gohn's vulnerable piece.

"None of your mind-tricks this time, Kenobi," their ancient instructor warned. "You will not always be able to locate an enemy commander in order to dull his perceptions or sense his plans."

Obi-Wan stopped doing _exactly that_.

He looked at the board again. He moved one of his pieces toward the yellow monster, and received another _crack_ on the hand – the _same_ hand, Obi-Wan noted, grimacing openly this time.

"Now look at yourself. You're just going to feed him another piece? By the time you reach him, he will be recovered enough to destroy you. You will die a death of a thousand cuts this way. You must let _go_ of your losses, Obi-Wan; release their hold on you. Only that way lies victory."

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, wondering what Anakin's _swordfighting club _was doing while he was being berated by a _fossil_...

* * *

><p>Anakin gripped the hilt in his hand, his fingers steady; each groove was a comfort, each ridge his boon companion.<p>

He touched the small rounded button and pushed, the blue blade of light springing into existence, his awareness extending along its length as readily as if it were a part of his own body.

He swung, and felt the clash of his opponent's blade against his own. He felt his opponent's weight shift, and turned to parry, feeling the crackle of energy as his blade successfully blocked his opponent's blow. Anakin reached out with his mind, sensing his opponent – as easily as if his eyes had been open.

He swung and felt his blade stopped by Master Damun's own. "Well done, Skywalker," he said, pulling Anakin's blindfold off his face and tossing it aside. Anakin deactivated his blade and came to attention, bowing.

His opponent, a male human named Cando Foehammer, did the same, acknowledging his defeat with a graceful ease. His saber was unique – grey and white, fizzing like static, seeming to spill over, its shape poorly defined compared to the usual hard edges of a lightsaber. He extinguished his own blade and slung it at his hip, and Anakin hung his own weapon likewise.

Master Damun nodded in approval. His cybernetic leg clicked on the floor as he walked; the Master of Knights had disdained to conceal his robotic limb. His mechanical eye glowed the same brilliant green as his lightsaber as he looked over his pupils. "You both performed well," he said, now removing Cando's blindfold. Anakin, your technique is excellent but still stifled by your rigid movements; but you're getting better every day. Cando, you built that weapon for a reason – _embrace it_. I can _feel_ you constraining yourself – don't! Again, and this time show me what you can do when you are not handicapped. _**BATTLE!**_"

Anakin and Cando drew their blades with superhuman quickness, the Force speeding their hands. Cando lunged more aggressively than before; Anakin felt the twinge of fear before reminding himself that Master Damun could stop them with a thought. Discarding his own impulse toward restraint, he parried with all of his strength, a blow from the shoulder which sent his opponent reeling. He leapt into the air, propelling himself upward, and slashed down-

He slammed into the nearby statue of some ancient Master or other, Damun's laughter booming across the Hall. "_Much better,_" he shouted, "Both of you! You've stopped _fencing_ and started trying to _kill_ somebody!"

Anakin grinned and massaged his bruised back, clasping hands with his opponent. "A blow well-struck, Skywalker," Cando said, rubbing his shoulder.

"Well done in making me need to strike it, Foehammer," Anakin replied, and they sat on the cool stone floor to rest and watch the next two Knights don their blindfolds.

* * *

><p>Anakin awoke to a knock at the door.<p>

Gently, he moved the girl's arm from his chest, tucking her hand under her cheek, taking a moment to savor the softness of her skin against his own.

He had asked permission to take a day away from his training in order to visit the other survivors of Crucis IV, and Master Damun had agreed instantly, without asking any further questions, without even a knowing glance or a gesture of shared understanding – his immediate and simple response had said more than any of those things could have. He had gone to visit Darin first, awaiting deployment aboard the _Victory _in orbit above Coruscant. and found him in better spirits than before. He had checked in with the other survivors, all eagerly awaiting their return to duty. Then had had gone to visit Sila Parino, sole survivor of Master Carin's fireteam.

He remembered the blood seeping from underneath her armor around the edges of the shards of metal that the explosion had stabbed through her, the sickening way her leg had been twisted as she fell... and the _crack_ of impact after he had tossed her through the air to safety, the muffled scream from inside her shattered helmet.

So he had brought a spray of flowers, wondering why he was feeling so guilty for having hurt her while _saving her life._

He had never seen her with her helmet removed, except at the memorial ceremony, and there he had been... distracted. So when she opened the door to her barracks room, he had been momentarily taken aback; he had not expected her to be beautiful. And although she had not expected to see him at all, she was more than happy to accept the flowers, and then express her gratitude for the rescue – and extract ample reparations for his part in her injuries.

Anakin hastily slid his trousers back on and opened the door – Sila was still on light duty while she healed, and Anakin had a sinking feeling that this news was for him.

Another female Marine stood in the doorway, and she covered her mouth and flushed crimson when she saw him, trying but failing to keep her eyes from flicking down to his chest; four months of training had paid dividends for his physique, and, as Sila had pointed out, his _stamina_. Anakin, wishing he had put his shirt on, tried to maintain a casual demeanor. "Yes?" he asked, hoping he was exuding confidence.

The female Marine was grinning now, although she was still bright red. She glanced past him at Sila's sleeping form. "Are you Anakin Skywalker?" she asked. He nodded, and she went on. "There's a shuttle waiting for you. Another Jedi told me to come get you."

Anakin frowned. He had checked in at the barracks duty desk, but other than that, no-one should have known where to find him. He thanked the Marine, closed the door, and began dressing. Sila rolled over and opened bleary eyes, smiled at him. He smiled at her, and leaned down to kiss her cheek, but by the time his lips had reached her, she had fallen back to sleep.

Buttoning his uniform jacket, he smoothed his hair and soundlessly left the room, trying to imagine what could be so important...

* * *

><p><em>Two Hours Earlier<em>

Obi-Wan had awoken to a louder-than-usual pounding at the door. He looked at his timepiece, and saw that it was hours before sunrise.

He rose and showered, executing his routine as usual, but his door suddenly opened. "Trickster, get your ass moving! _NOW!_" The voice had sounded, to Obi-Wan's growing concern, like Master Ironfist. He rinsed himself off and threw on his trousers, running into the corridor.

His fellow Knights hurried down the corridor in hushed anticipation, with none of the usual jostling or playful banter. Masters were checking rooms and _dragging_ the stragglers into the hallway, ready or not. Zhi Bloodwashed, one of Anakin's fellow students of Master Damun, was still naked as Master Ironfist tossed her out, clutching her breasts to keep them in place as she made her way to the Hall.

They reached the Hall and found it empty besides their own Order; the Scouts and Scholars and Sages were nowhere to be seen. Master Damun was crouched atop the statue of Master Beren, naked himself.

"Knights," he said, more softly than anyone had ever heard him speak, audible only because of the Hall's acoustics and the anxious silence of the gathered Jedi. "I asked the Imperator for six months in which to train you. I would have asked him for ten years, but I fear I would be training you to defend nothing but corpses and ash by then. War does not give us what we want, neither Master nor soldier nor Imperator. He gave me as much time as he could, but today he needs you – _I _need you, the _Republic_ needs you."

A collective in-drawing of breath; Obi-Wan could feel the excitement, the fear, the knots forming in stomachs as Master Damun continued.

"The enemy has overrun our defenses at Bastion."

...Obi-Wan was dismayed by how many of his fellow Knights failed to react. _You're warriors, not foot soldiers, _he thought, _You should try to grasp at least the _basic _strategic aspects of the war you're about to fight..._

"The Republic fleet is mighty, and her spacers and Marines could have crushed these upstarts without breaking a sweat, if they hadn't stacked the deck with these damn _clones_. But the Republic has withstood greater threats – just not on its own."

...Obi-Wan wondered what Klyver was telling the Scouts right now, or Yoda the Sages. Soris, he imagined, had already finished speaking...

"When the Republic faces a threat like this, she cannot be left to face it alone, and so the Seekers of Justice have defended her for a thousand generations. I know some of you have seen combat against pirates, or slavers on the Rim. Many of you have helped to put down uprisings or insurrections, and you have all trained rigorously. Some of you have even been in genuine military raids against isolated outposts. None of this will prepare you for war. This battle will be like nothing you have ever experienced."

...Obi-Wan was startled by the flat declaration, and by how specifically Master Damun had made sure to include Obi-Wan and Anakin in it. He looked around, trying to see where his friend was sitting, but couldn't find him...

"The Apprentices have left a list of gear for you to pack; bare necessities. Anything not on the list will not be allowed on the shuttle out. Anything you sneak past me, if I find it later, will be tossed into hyperspace, and you'll be lucky if you don't follow it. Pack your gear, and head to the shuttle pads for inspection. First up will get first pick of the best racks for sleeping!"

With this, Damun the Strong jumped off the Statue and began waving his Knights back toward their rooms. "_**GO!**_" he bellowed, and as one they all turned and ran back to their rooms.

Obi-Wan had almost reached his when Damun's hand clapped on his shoulder from behind, causing Obi-Wan to physically jump. Damun laughed. "A little jumpy, eh? Don't be _too_ worried. But I need you for a special mission."

Obi-Wan wondered for a moment if Master Soris had recommended him for-

"I need you to find that damn Skywalker."

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin's arm and pulled him up into the shuttle. "What the <em>hell<em>, Anakin?" Obi-Wan shouted over the wind as they pulled away, the door sliding shut as he said it.

"It's not his fault," Master Damun said, "I gave him leave to visit the other survivors of Crucis IV. None of us knew Bastion would fall last night."

Obi-Wan told Anakin what had happened. Damun interjected when it came to his speech: "Kenobi, I'll give him the short version: Klyver and Soris were out telling the Scouts and Scholars to buck up, to believe in themselves, because that's what Scouts and Scholars need to hear. Yoda told his Sages who were going to remain at peace or some other mystical nonsense. But Knights don't need inner peace, and we don't lack for confidence. What you need to know is that this is _war_ and you can't treat this like just any other mission."

Anakin frowned. "But Master what about-"

"Crucis IV was a commando mission against an isolated outpost, although I'll admit that out of all of us who made it off of that hellhole, you saw the most fighting. Just remember what you learned there, and don't blame yourself for what happened."

Anakin nodded. "Do we have time for me to pack?" he asked, and Obi-Wan pointed to a backpack underneath one of the shuttle's seats.

"I took the liberty," Obi-Wan said. "Although I suppose I forgot to bring you a Marine for your bed-"

Anakin headbutted him – or tried, as Obi-Wan jumped backward to avoid the blow. He waved a finger at his younger companion. "Now Anakin," he said, "You should be more _relaxed_ after skipping a day of training!"

"Oh, I think he got plenty of exercise," Damun said, joining in, "It's our poor Marine I'm worried about! She's supposed to be on light duty, and I doubt her chit authorized any _strenuous physical activity._"

Anakin rolled his eyes, and Obi-Wan tried to sear the moment into his memory – in case none of them came back.

* * *

><p>Their shuttle left the atmosphere and plotted a course to meet with the <em>Liberty <em>in orbit. Anakin and Obi-Wan sat strapped in, adjusting to weightlessness; Master Damun floated freely between them.

"Since we have time," he said, "I'll fill you in on a few more details. The Imperator _needs_ us to re-take Bastion; Palpatine has mostly been withdrawing to draw them further into our territory, but a surprise attack at Corellia let them reach Bastion sooner than expected, and our forces weren't in place yet. Bastion is the hub for all the fastest hyperspace routes between the Republic and the Unity Coalition, so we need to get it back _fast_ if we want to keep them from moving on the Core worlds."

Obi-Wan wondered if it would be fast enough. Palpatine's strategy of limited resistance provided their only hope now: that the Unity forces were spread too thin defending too much captured territory to mass for an assault on the Core worlds.

"But just as importantly," Damun went on, "We need to strike a victory for the Republic. Morale has been sinking as those damn clones have trampled over our outposts. Putting the entire Order of Jedi Knights into one system is a good way to guarantee a victory, even if it costs us badly. Palpatine underestimated – hell, that's unfair, we _all_ underestimated the Coalition when we went to Crucis. This time we're going to make _sure _that we win, overkill or no.

"The good news is that we have the 3rd Expeditionary Legion aboard a Fleet flotilla already en-route – your friend Sergeant Antall left for Bastion about six hours ago, at first word of the attack. Palpatine wants us to arrive in force, putting Jedi and the Third all over the system's four habitable planets. Bastion got its name from the hyperspace inhibitors on its worlds, which will allow us to shut down any attempts by the enemy to bypass the other Inner Rim systems and skip straight to Coruscant and Foundry and Freehold and all the rest."

They felt the shudder of a tractor beam as they were brought aboard, the hangar crew not having time to wait for a manual landing. Damun spoke quickly. "You'll be on the ground on Bastion's third planet, Fellhart." He turned to Anakin. "Remember, you're not to blame for Crucis IV. Fight with your whole heart, and never let yourself lose the passion that fuels you – it _will_ keep you alive in battle," he smirked, "Just as it keeps you in the beds of beautiful women at home."

He turned to Obi-Wan, now. "And you, Trickster: remember that you are not as smart as you sometimes think. Do not assume that you know better than the orders you are given: lives could depend on you taking action _instantly_. You should _think_ about everything you hear, though; you _are _smart, and your commander deserves to have that resource at his disposal."

The shuttle doors opened, and Damun hopped out. "Find your racks and settle in, gentlemen," he said, already jogging across the hangar on his own unspoken business. He walked backward for a moment to shout one last time: "_**GO!**_" he barked, laughing.

Anakin and Obi-Wan climbed out of the shuttle, their uniforms and little else in their backpacks. The deck below was smooth and shiny, yet the surface clung to their feet, preventing any sliding. All around, spacers performed various tasks that were a mystery to Obi-Wan. He turned to Anakin. "Are we ready for this?" he asked.

Anakin looked out the containment field and into space as the stars turned to starlines and were replaced by the swirling vortex of hyperspace. "You and me are more ready than most, I think," he said, and walked toward the nearest door to begin the process of finding their berthing.

Obi-Wan silently wished he'd heard Klyver's speech instead of Damun's, but he followed his companion anyway.


	16. Notes for Chapter 8

In my plotting of the next few chapters, I got a bit ahead of myself; originally I had made Anakin and Obi-Wan too central to the events of the war, and a major purpose of this part of the story was lost: that purpose being to show how YOUNG our Jedi protagonists are.

Obi-Wan is a long way from being a General, and Anakin hasn't found his true calling yet. I also like the idea that the Jedi as a whole would require some training before they went off to fight in a full-scale war.

Once again, I wanted to emphasize my distaste for Lucas's bizarrely sexless Jedi Order. It serves no purpose other than to create the contrived, simplistic conflict he chose to use as Anakin's reason for leaving the Jedi. Worse, it never justifies itself - it's just taken for granted, and then used as a plot device.

Frankly, I feel like there's a spirited argument to be made on several sides of that discussion: expect Damun, Klyver, and Yoda to weigh in on the subject at some point in the future.

Also bear in mind that this is gonna be a LONG story, and we're still only at the very beginning of it. If you feel like an element is missing (like I sometimes do) remind yourself (like I also do) that those elements are on the horizon, we just haven't gotten to them yet.

NOTE: went back and fixed some formatting errors - I mark horizontal lines as XXXX when I type these up in OpenOffice, because apparently the asterisk is verboten when uploading a story? But I forgot to replace them in Chapter 7, so it looked pretty goofy. I've fixed formatting on a couple others from before I realized that asterisks simply VANISH when the document is uploaded, so if a chapter seemed to flow really strangely, that might have been the cause. EDIT: And then I realized a day after posting this that I'd forgotten to replace those in THIS Chapter. Genius! Fixed that.

Reviews! Reviews are my favoritest thing ever, and currently there seem to be exactly TWO people contributing them (I suspect that my 3 anonymous reviews are all the same person; and a huge thanks for the support, to you and Raika!) and I'd love to hear from more of you guys! There are at least a couple dozen of you who have made it this far, I'd love to hear what you all think!


	17. Chapter 9: Cry Havoc

Chapter 9: Cry Havoc

There had only been one space left in the Jedi berthing, and Anakin had left it for Obi-Wan. He found a spacer, who led him to a Senior Chief in Operations, a grizzled old battleaxe of a woman.

"Well sir, we're at least three days away from Bastion, maybe four, depending on hyperspace conditions. You'll need a rack. There are two officer cabins open, but we'd have to ask the XO, and some space in Marine berthing-"

Anakin chose the second option. Following the Chief down stairs and ladderwells, through doors and hatches, they eventually reached Marine berthing, identical to the Jedi berthing where he had left the protesting Obi-Wan. She left him at the door, since it was male berthing, so Anakin entered alone and found his 'rack', as the spacers had insisted upon calling his bed – and then he stood and stared at it for a full minute, considering whether to try to make his way back to the Operations Chief.

It looked like a slab in a the galaxy's most cramped burial crypt. Closed on the other side, less than a two feet of space between the thin mattress and the metal above; it was sandwiched between two others, above and below. With only three feet between the rows, Anakin could not raise his arms unless he faced his rack or the opposite. Anakin fought down a sudden feeling of claustrophobia and looked around for a place to stow his backpack.

After a few seconds of confusion, a Marine showed him how to lift the 'bed' portion up, revealing a storage space below. "You with the Command Element?" the Marine asked; he looked young, barely more than a teenager.

Anakin opened his bag and began laying his folded uniforms into the tiny space – tiny, but still almost entirely empty by the time Anakin had finished. The Marine looked at the uniforms, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Wait, Marine, where the hell is the rest of your gear?" the boy asked, and Anakin smiled, drawing out the moment.

When the Marine didn't reach any answers of his own, Anakin put his hands on his hips, and finally the Marine's eyes flicked down to the small metal cylinder that hung there.

The Marine looked at Anakin with something between admiration and terror – _awe_ was the only word Anakin could think of to describe it. "I'm Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. I captured the treasonous Jennar Suun, and survived the Battle of Crucis IV," he said.

"Why...why are you _here?_" a voice asked, a Marine who was laying nearby in his rack at Anakin's chest-level.

"Because," he declared, losing some of his dramatic steam, "Our berthing was full."

* * *

><p>It was three hours later, and the questions had barely slowed. Not far from Anakin's rack was a common area, little more than two dozen tables and a few inactive vidscreens. Every Marine in their berthing had crammed into it, sitting on tables and cross-legged on the floor – Anakin had never seen so many people in such a tiny space. He himself was in a chair in the center of the horde, wondering how the Jedi had defended the Republic for so long without anyone knowing <em>anything<em> about them.

"No," he answered someone's shouted question, "We don't have ranks, besides Master. And Apprentice, I guess, but Apprentices aren't Jedi, they're... well, Apprentices. And 'Master' is pretty informal, basically you're a Jedi Master once enough people start calling you one. It basically just means you _teach_ more than most Jedi. Some Jedi live hundreds of years and never become Masters, and never want to. The only real authority among Knights comes from whoever has the best plan, or if there isn't time for that, the strongest voice. And there's one Master of each Order who has the final say, Master Damun for us."

There were a few laughs from the crowd, and Anakin realized that there was an undercurrent of envy to them. Another Marine spoke out: "What about, like girls? I mean, I heard that you're all celibate, like monks or something."

Anakin grinned, thinking of Sila's soft, smooth skin against his own only a few hours ago. "Not even close, stormtrooper," he said. "Master Damun's wife might agree with you, though."

Another laugh as Anakin explained. "Jedi Knights are encouraged to indulge our passions. Damun believes that strong bonds make strong warriors, but obviously whenever two people screw there can be drama. We try to deal with it; people who get chosen to be Knights don't tend to be worriers.

"But there's other problems. You get sent on missions a lot, and even when there isn't a war, there's always pirates and uprisings and other crap. So you spend a lot of time away from whoever your partner is. Some people leave the Order when they get married, and the Order tries to take care of them as best it can after they leave.

"That's us, though, as Knights; for Scouts it's worse because their missions usually last longer, sometimes _years_. But their Master, Klyver, doesn't believe in getting too attached to people, so the Jedi chosen to be Scouts tend to be sort of loners to begin with. I don't really know that many of them, but I don't know any who are married or anything. Not to say they don't... you know. Klyver is _infamous_ all over Coruscant.

"Scholars are a mixed bag, because it seems like half of them are basically Scouts these days. The ones who rotate into field missions and then back to the Academy get married all the time, they've got two whole schools for their kids over there. But lots of them are Infiltrators, who can go on deep cover assignments for _decades_, and every Scholar has to deploy on Field Duty, whether gathering intel, espionage, archeological expeditions, or plain old combat support. So again, same problems come up, but at least Scholars _have_ something to do at the Academy, and they know they'll spend _most _of their time there, overall.

"Sages... well, Sages are different. Their Master, Yoda, has a very... _traditional _view of the Force. He sees all emotions as basically a tool of evil; he believes that the Force itself has a Light and Dark side, and that passion and emotion, even friendship and love, all lead you to the Dark side. And to be fair, this _was_ how the Jedi used to be, apparently, back a couple thousand years ago. So Sages have different rules; Yoda will expel you from the Order if you get married or have a kid. Even the most casual flings are treated really seriously. But like with the others, Sages are _chosen_ to be part of their Order. So they're mostly the calm, contemplative type. But it still must be tough, and sometimes I feel bad for them."

"You said kids? And what about civilians – I mean people who _aren't_ Jedi?" the Marine asked.

Anakin answered. "Yeah, kids are a pain, and there's always problems trying to do what's best for them and best for the kids, that kind of thing. As for non-Jedi relationships, those have the added problem that Jedi live a lot longer than normal people; otherwise it's the same thing. They're welcome to live at the Academy, and we just all sort of do our best to make things work. You try to balance the needs of the Order against the needs of the people in it, you know? We don't really have a ton of rules about this stuff. What about you guys?"

"Basically the same," the Marine agreed. "Same problems: with civilians, _you _deploy and they stay home, and then if it's a spacer or a Marine, you _both _deploy and are almost never together."

"Exactly," Anakin said. "It's not forbidden or anything, but it's tough to make it work."

The next question was about the technical workings of his lightsaber, and Anakin smiled and answered as best he could. But he was thinking about Sila Parino, and a few girls from before he joined the Order. He wondered if he would ever have children of his own, whether he would remain with the Jedi or leave them to start a family. He couldn't imagine leaving the Order, but this morning he couldn't have imagined leaving the warmth of Sila's bed, either.

But he knew he was being optimistic even considering the possibility; the upcoming battle was likely to claim even more Jedi lives than the disaster at Crucis.

Anakin ruminated on this and thought about the future as the questions continued, until eventually he grew tired, and crawled into the tiny rack to sleep, drawing a thin curtain to keep out the light, and his daydreams were submerged in sleep to become merely dreams.

* * *

><p>He awoke to the piercing sound of someone yelling; "Reveille, reveille! Get your asses out of the damn rack!"<p>

Anakin rolled out of bed, his feet thudding into the Marine below him who was emerging at the same time. Mumbling an apology, Anakin waited and then climbed out – only to be hit in the head by the feet of the Marine _above_ him. Mumbling an acceptance of _that_ apology, he finally emerged. A chill stabbed into his feet as they came to rest on the deck below, and his eyes were blurry as they adjusted to the harsh artificial light.

"What time is it?" he asked, and another Marine answered.

"Too damn early," he said. Anakin checked the timepiece built into his rack: it read 0413, and Anakin had learned enough of Fleet timekeeping to know that this was, indeed, too damn early.

The Marine who slept across from him, a Sergeant named Polis, was walking up and down the isles, yanking stragglers out of their racks. "Rise and shine, Marines!" he yelled, making Anakin and several others wince. He stopped in front of Anakin. "Sir, you can return to your rack if you'd like. I'm sure the Gunnery Sergeant will-"

Anakin cut him off. "I'll play along," he said. "Don't let him know who I am. If I'm stuck here, I might as well get the full experience, right?"

The Sergeant looked around at the other Marines, and Anakin tried and failed to read his expression. "Will you come with me for a moment, sir?" he asked, leaving little room for a 'no'.

They walked to the nearest hatch and into the passageway "Dog that hatch," the Sergeant told him, and Anakin guessed that meant pulling the large lever into a locking position, securing the door. After this was done, the Sergeant faced him. "Now I mean no disrespect, sir, but I can't let you do that."

"Do what?" Anakin asked, still half-asleep.

"I can't let you 'play along'. This isn't a game, this is _our life_. Our world is built around discipline and respect. If you decide you don't want to be bossed around and start backtalking the Gunny, it'll set a bad example for my troopers. You're above the consequences of disobedience, and I'm not going to let that attitude spread to my Marines, _definitely _not with only a day or two until we hit combat."

Anakin hadn't considered this; he took a moment to think before answering. "Sergeant, do you believe that as a Jedi Knight, I will do as I say? That I won't lie to you, or break my promise?"

The reputation of the Jedi Knights, _legendary_ _defenders of justice_, was strong enough to make even the hardened stormtrooper give a reluctant nod.

"Then let me make you a promise," Anakin said. "As long as I'm in this berthing, I will obey all orders given by non-commissioned officers and above. I will not disrespect the authority of anyone in the chain of command. But if I'm going to live here for three days, and then fight alongside in these Marines on the battlefield, I won't have them thinking of me as some lazy outsider who lounges around in his rack all day."

The Sergeant thought for even longer about this. Finally he nodded again, just as reluctantly. But he pointed a warning finger in Anakin's face. "Okay, you can try to keep up. But remember: _I know where you sleep_. Jedi or no, if you _fuck_ me on this, I _will_ find a way to make you pay for it."

Anakin could picture Master Damun's face if word got back to him that one of his Knights had broken his word to a Republic sergeant on the eve of their first battle. "Not to worry, Sergeant; I'll try to keep up."

They hurried back into berthing, where the Marines were standing at attention next to their racks; there was so little space that they were shoulder-to-shoulder even _without_ Anakin there, and he was amazed that he managed to squeeze between his rackmates at all.

The Gunnery Sergeant, a muscular, dark-skinned man in his thirties named Vilas, walked down each isle until eventually he came to Anakin's. Silently, he took in each Marine, one by one, and then moved on to the next row.

Finally he had finished, and he stood at the very and of the bay, only a few feet away from Anakin, and addressed the entire room, his voice booming. "Marines!" He shouted. "We are less than four days away from the Bastion system. And this berthing is _disgusting_. Sergeants, I want this place field-day-inspection ready in six hours. _Move!_"

And with that, the Gunny was gone.

The stormtroopers to his left and right were scurrying to put their trousers on, and Anakin did the same. "What is all this about?" he asked, bewildered.

Private First Class Romo, the Marine who slept below him, was yanking a pair of simple rubber sandals onto his feet. "It means that Gunny is bored, and couldn't sleep, so he's gonna make us miserable to pass the time."

Anakin glanced at Sergeant Polis, who shrugged. "Kid's not wrong," he stated simply. "Now figure out who's gonna swab the deck."

Anakin wondered what had possessed him to give the man his word, and went off to look for a mop.

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan finally ran into Anakin on the mess deck on the third day of their journey; as most of the veteran spacers had predicted, gravitational alignment had been unfavorable, lengthening their journey. The two had found themselves a mostly-empty table to catch up.<p>

Anakin was soaked in sweat. "Skywalker," Obi-Wan said, "Just because you're surrounded by Marines doesn't mean you need to try to... _be_ one, to blend in or something."

Anakin shrugged, ladling another spoonful of food into his mouth. "It's interesting. Their lives are a strange kind of shared misery. The more I understand them, I figure the better I'll be able to command them."

Obi-Wan considered this. "But isn't it also possible that you'll grow too attached to them, and lose the perspective necessary to lead them effectively?" he asked; he hoped his friend had thought of this.

Anakin shrugged again, and Obi-Wan was concerned by the lack of a real response. "Whatever I was doing last time didn't work particularly well," he said. "At most we've got a day left until we reach Bastion, anyway. Hopefully this time we'll be _landing_ at our destination, that planet we need for whatever."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "_Fellhart_, is the name, and we need it for the hyperspace inhibitors on the surface. And we won't be landing so much as jumping out of a dropship while an army of rampaging clones tries to murder us."

Anakin downed his glass of water in one gulp, and began on his second plate of food.

"What do they _do_ over there that leaves you so damn hungry?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin grinned. "Mostly _cleaning_. It's almost like Sages and meditating, it's just... the thing they can be told to do when nothing else presents itself. And man, do they _hate_ it. Hell, _I_ hate it. And they PT a lot – physical training, usually we just run in formation around the hangar deck with some exercises thrown in here and there. And they've been teaching some hand-to-hand stuff that Master Ironfist would be impressed by. And they love to talk about their families and their homes; it's funny, because they're more disciplined than we are, but the Fleet is never really 'home' for them the way the Academy is for us – probably a side-effect of their enlistment not being for life. What have _you _been doing?"

Obi-Wan processed the torrent of responses for a moment before answering. "Well," he said, "We've been doing... nothing, really. Usual Knight business, really. Some grappling, which is tough in the tight spaces, and some exercises in the common area. Master Damun tells the occasional war story."

"Nothing to do?" Anakin said, mockingly.

Obi-Wan finished his water. "Well, I suppose we could always try clea-"

The ship rumbled as it exited hyperspace. The intercom blared instructions, but Obi-Wan was already moving. Anakin followed closely behind, and Obi-Wan realized that even if he berthed with the Marines, he would be deploying to the surface with his fellow Knights.

Obi-Wan leapt down a ladderwell, Anakin landing behind him. The ship was enormous, too large to learn to navigate in such a short time, so Obi-Wan had to rely on the lines painted on the walls and deck. Anakin stopped a passing spacer to ensure they were going the right direction, something Obi-Wan had not thought to do; now Anakin led the way, zipping through the passageways until finally they emerged into the cavernous hangar bay.

The Jedi were clustered around Master Damun, and Obi-Wan saw that he and Anakin were among the first to arrive. He checked them both over, nodded. "Anakin, good to see you came back to us. Both of you, get aboard that dropship-" he pointed "- you'll get your specific briefing on the way down. Master Patrin will be leading your squad. May the Force be with you!"

And with that, he slapped each of them on the back, and began assigning the other Jedi.

Obi-Wan boarded the dropship and strapped in, he and Anakin the only Jedi aboard. He tried to calm his nerves, felt a twinge in his leg. _Psychosomatic,_ he assured himself as he tapped his foot against the grated metal deck of the tiny ship.

Anakin strapped in across from him, and gestured toward his bouncing leg, glancing at the Marines on either side of them. Obi-Wan forced himself to stop moving, expanding his awareness through the Force, feeling the minds and energy of the troopers and of his friend.

Master Patrin boarded last, and did not sit. She held on to a strap attached overhead, and before the doors had closed, the dropship was ascending from the hangar deck.

Obi-Wan clenched his teeth, and listened to the hundred-year-old warrior as she described their mission.

* * *

><p>Anakin looked around the dropship, only really recognizing one face among the ten unhelmeted Marines – PFC Romo, his rackmate. A few of the others were familiar, but there were almost two thousand Marines aboard, and Anakin had only had time to become acquainted with a few who were in his immediate vicinity in berthing.<p>

Master Patrin was explaining their objective: to move forward and secure Inhibitor Depot Alpha. There were six of these depots, but Alpha was already in the hands of the 3rd Expeditionary Legion – which Anakin had learned was simply referred to by the Marines as "Third MEL" or sometimes just the cardinal "3 MEL".

The mission was to land behind the Unity forces and push forward toward the depot, flanking the clones and reinforcing the Marines already in position. This area of Fellhart was a large island, and the terrain in operational area was mostly rolling hills and occasional woods.

"Marines! There will be very little cover, so rely on fire support from overhead to keep the enemy's heads down," Patrin Bladewalker shouted over the noise of their entry into Fellhart's upper atmosphere. "The two Jedi you see are Skywalker and Kenobi – Kenobi's saber is red, Skywalker's is blue, and if you can't tell who _I_ am from a distance, get your eyes checked. Skywalker and Kenobi, I want you both ahead of the squad, drawing fire and cutting down anyone in our way.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, his throat suddenly dry. He thought about strategies to avoid enemy fire: _stay moving, stay on the move, don't stop moving_, he said, reciting it as though it were a litany.

"We should be less than a mile from the enemy, which means there are anti-air turbolasers firing at us _right now –_ which means we'll be leaving this boat in a _hurry_," Master Patrin shouted, and they felt the strain of the ship's engines as they almost hit the ground, their straps releasing automatically.

They piled out of the open doors, past Master Patrin, who waited until they were all out before-

A massive bolt of green fire struck the ship, completely incinerating it in an instant.


	18. Notes for Chapter 9

Why, you might ask, does the Naval terminology of the Galaxy Far, Far Away happen to be identical to its twentieth-century Milky Way equivalent?

The same reason they speak English, know what a falcon is, look like humans...

Basically once you start thinking too hard about this stuff, it becomes a headache. The purpose of the terminology, story-wise, is to emphasize that the Jedi are stepping into an alien environment, new and confusing. So I kept it. Also, it was that or using the "wrong" terminology, which a) would be like running my TEETH down a chalkboard, and b) would be wasting the story opportunity of bombarding our heroes with a new culture.

So if a bar can look like a bar, and the Millenium Falcon's cockpit can look basically like an airline cockpit (plus fuzzy dice!), then berthing aboard a Republic Troop Carrier can look like it does aboard a U.S. Navy LHD. It's an efficient way to store troops, and it makes plenty of sense whatever galaxy it's in.

We also managed to get my little filibuster about Jedi and sex out of the way, too - expect this issue to still be relevant later, of course, but I saw an opportunity for Anakin to talk about it, and I decided this was a perfect time to do so. (If *I* met a Jedi Knight in MY berthing, I would probably ask him exactly that question!)

Since, ya know, we stopped as kind of a tense moment, I'm gonna try to finish the next chapter this week, but Real Life is gonna keep me busy for a bit. But those of you who prefer the action stuff to world-building (and there's like 30 of you, I'll bet at least ONE of you feels that way) will appreciate the next part a lot more, so hang in there!

I'd love to get more feedback, which means not just reviews but also spreading the word! Tell your Tumblr followers or livejournal or Twitter or whatever that you're reading a really neat Star Wars fic! BUT ALSO REVIEWS.

Every time you read a chapter and don't write a review, Darth Vader kills a kitten. AND THEN HE MASTURBATES.


End file.
